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Chapter 107
Matilda was caught in the tendrils of a dream that seemed to stretch on endlessly.
In this dream, she was the beloved daughter of the prestigious Thompson family, her grace and elegance unmatched. Gideon, her older brother, was the very definition of dashing, with a
charm that attracted the city’s elite like moths to a flame.
It was Gideon’s birthday, and in the dream, Matilda was 25, Gideon 27. The siblings stood side by side, epitomizing closeness. Their parents were the picture of health and happiness; the family of four was a paradigm of domestic bliss.
In the dream, Matilda’s laughter rang out so heartily it was as if she was using up a lifetime’s worth of joy.
When she awoke, she found herself in an unfamiliar hospital bed, still Matilda, but every ounce. of warmth and affection dissipated the moment her eyes opened. NôvelDrama.Org exclusive content.
The final frame of her dream lingered on Gideon’s face before it began to crack down the middle, splintering like a shattered glass pane, bit by bit. The familiar smile and voice of her brother were carved apart by those fractures, crumbling into nothingness.
Matilda looked around in panic. She was in a private hospital room, jolting awake as if from at nightmare, her complexion ghostly pale.
Silence enveloped her, so profound it seemed to swallow even the echo of her own breath.
This eerie quietude gave her an overwhelming sense of solitude, as if she were the last person
left on earth. Instinctively, Matilda hugged herself, the IV needle in her arm dislodged by the movement, swelling into a small bump on the back of her hand. Yet she hugged herself tighter, as if oblivious to the pain.
Gideon…
Her eyes reddened, but no tears came. She gasped for air, feeling as though she was suffocating.
Her body was wracked with a searing pain, as if being torn apart. How Matilda wished she could faint, to escape the sharp, icy agony.
Suddenly. Yvan burst through the door, flooding the room with light. “What are you doing? Have you lost your mind?”
With a forceful yank, Matilda pulled the needle from her hand. Blood gushed from the tiny puncture, quickly dripping onto the sheets. But the wound was small, and the bleeding soon. stopped. With no desire to clean it up, Matilda fixed her gaze on the man before her.
He still had that captivating allure, but now his eyes swirled with a soul–deep shock and pain.
“Matilda, you…” Yvan’s voice trembled.
10:27
“Don’t say my name!” With a burst of fierce energy, she pushed Yvan away and bolted down the hallway, running as if against the current of time.
The years seemed to flow past her as she desperately raced backward, toward a place where Gideon was, to the very beginning.
Until she reached–the morgue.
Matilda’s steps faltered, her body swayed as if about to collapse, but she didn’t let herself fall. Clutching the wall through a brain–splitting pain, she bit down hard, her gums oozing blood between clenched teeth.
The door to the morgue was locked.
“What could I do, Gideon? I’m locked out of your world.”
Glancing at the lock, Matilda grabbed her earring, ignoring the pain as she yanked it out in a single, ruthless pull–blood spattered, and pain seared through her.
She shuddered violently from the pain, took a deep breath, and straightened the earring with trembling hands. Then she inserted it into the keyhole, whispering to herself to stay calm, to breathe.
A faint click signaled the lock giving way. The moment the door opened, an intense light blazed in her eyes.
She pushed the door open and ran to Gideon.
With reckless abandon, she surged forward like a child into a parent’s embrace, like a fish gasping for water and finding the sea, like someone rushing headlong into the inevitable embrace of death.