Chapter 53
“Why do you wear your uniform every day even when you’re not on duty?”
“A soldier has to be on standby twenty-four hours a day.”
“Wow, that sounds awful. It already looks super uncomfortable. Can you even breathe properly in that thing?”
“There’s never been a single recorded case of someone experiencing breathing problems because of the uniform.”
“I was joking. Don’t you know what a joke is?”
The fact that she could joke again meant she was recovering, at least a little. Giles only smiled faintly.
The melody of a beautiful symphony seeped through the soundproof wall, carrying a sweet resonance. Anna listened quietly for a moment before speaking.
“Thank you. For staying by my side.”
“I only did what I had to.”
“Do you really like me that much?”
It was such a sudden question. The answer was obvious enough, yet Giles hesitated, unable to open his mouth right away. He wasn’t the kind of man who could handle such questions with easy wit.
Fortunately, Anna understood that about him.
“Sometimes you feel strange to me,” she said softly. “I always thought love was something you had to work for. But you—whether I try or not, you’re always there.”
“I’m content just knowing you’re beside me.”
“What’s it like, then? When I’m here? Tell me.”
Just then, applause echoed through the hall. The orchestra had finished its piece. It was time for Anna to leave the waiting room.
“Do well out there,” Giles said.
“When the concert’s over, you’ll have to answer my question,” she replied with a faint smile.
The door opened. The stage dimmed for a moment before the lights came up again. At the center stood a grand piano.
Anna turned back to glance at Giles one last time, then walked forward. The white hem of her dress rippled like waves with each step she took.
Having no reason to stay behind, Giles exited the waiting room, circling around the corridor toward the audience hall. Applause thundered once more as the pianist appeared.
From his seat, Giles could see the golden-haired musician seated at the piano, waiting for the conductor’s cue. Once she gave the signal, the orchestra would begin.
He watched as Anna took a deep breath. Of course, he had no doubt she would perform flawlessly—Anna was an exceptional pianist. No one knew that better than Giles.
But then he noticed something strange—her body seemed to sway slightly. His brow furrowed. Was it a trick of the light? The illumination danced oddly across her figure, flickering in a way that didn’t seem right.
Then realization hit him. Something was wrong. This wasn’t a stage play—stage lights didn’t move like that in a concert hall. Giles’s eyes darted upward toward the ceiling.
It was as if an invisible wind had passed through the lights.
He pushed through the rows of audience seats, ignoring the complaints and shouts that followed. He couldn’t stop. His heart pounded heavily—thud, thud, thud—a sure sign that panic had seized him.
“Anna!” he shouted.
Anna, who had just turned to make eye contact with the conductor, swung her head toward his voice.
And in that instant—
Before anyone could comprehend what was happening, darkness swallowed the hall. A tremendous crash followed, echoing through the room as something heavy fell from above. The bright stage vanished in an instant.
Screams erupted everywhere. People panicked, scrambling for the exits. Giles ran the other way—toward the stage.
“Anna! Anna!” he shouted, his voice breaking. No answer came. He had to see her—had to make sure she was alive. She had to be. Losing Anna like this was impossible.
Emergency lights flickered on, casting dim illumination across the stage. The orchestra members had fled; the space was eerily empty.
Only one person remained.
“Anna…?”
She was lying near the shattered remains of the lighting rig. Blood spread slowly from a wound in her abdomen, glistening darkly under the emergency light. Giles froze, horror gripping him.
He’d seen this before—white surroundings drenched in red.
Snow-covered ground… streaked with blood.
He felt his mind slipping. She was dead. She had to be. Just like before—just like when he’d lost his sister.
Anna was dead.
Just as Celeste had been…
“Anna! Please, please…”
Half-sobbing, he fumbled to find her pulse, praying with everything he had. There—faint, but still there. A heartbeat.
But it was fading fast. The bleeding was too severe.
There was no time to call for help. Giles lifted her into his arms and ran. There were no medics stationed for a concert like this. He was the only one who could save her.
I won’t let it happen again.
I won’t lose her, too.
Never again.
That single thought consumed him.
A familiar male voice whispered in her ear.
“Don’t die, Anna.”
“Please. Don’t die.”
Even in her half-conscious haze, Anna replied inwardly. I’m not going to die. If I wanted to, I would’ve died years ago. Why say something so foolish?
She remembered the time when her family wanted her gone, when they would’ve been glad to bury her alive. That was when she’d made up her mind: No matter what happens, I won’t die easily. Even if I have to live knee-deep in filth, I’ll choose life.
The man kept begging her. Live. Please live. Stay with me.
It felt strange. People had cursed her, told her to disappear—but no one had ever pleaded with her to live before.
She wanted to know who he was—the one so desperate to keep her alive. Was this all just in her head? She had to be sure it wasn’t.
Anna tried to lift her hand, but her body wouldn’t move. Her right hand twitched feebly.
Then the man clasped it firmly. Relief tinged his trembling voice.
“Anna.”
Ah—she knew then. She understood who he was. The one praying for her survival.
Giles. Giles Hessen.
I won’t die, she thought. So please… don’t cry.
When she next opened her eyes, she could finally see clearly.
Where… was she? The place was unfamiliar but cozy, filled with warmth and care. Someone had clearly spent a long time designing this room so its occupant could feel safe. Cream-colored wallpaper patterned with tiny flowers caught her eye.
Whose room is this? she wondered.
She sat up slowly. More pressing than where she was, however, was why she was here. What had she been doing before this? She tried to recall. She should have been doing something—something important.
Then an image of a piano flashed through her mind.
Yes—the concert. The performance.
How had it gone? Had she finished it? She hoped she had. But the memory was blank. She couldn’t even picture herself playing.
Without realizing it, she touched her abdomen and found it tightly wrapped in thick bandages. She had no memory of being injured. Her body ached everywhere, but she could still walk.
She needed answers. If she went outside, surely someone could tell her what had happened.
Anna grabbed the door handle and tried to turn it.
Click. Click. Nothing.
The door wouldn’t open. She frowned and tried again—still nothing but the sharp sound of metal.
Someone had locked it. From the outside.
As the realization sank in, a familiar dread rose up within her, creeping through her veins like cold poison. No. No, that can’t be. It had to be a mistake, a malfunction—something explainable.
She forced herself to call out, “Is anyone out there? I think the door’s stuck!”
No answer.
Her breathing quickened; her hands trembled. Panic set in. She looked around wildly for another way out—maybe a window.
She ran to where the curtains hung and yanked them aside.
But there was no window—just wooden boards nailed tightly across the frame.
Trapped.
She was trapped.
It didn’t make sense. Why would anyone—? Was this a nightmare? She pinched her arm hard, banged her head lightly against the wall. It hurt—too real.
Desperation clawed at her chest. She seized the doorknob again, shaking it violently. “Open up! Open this door!”
No response.
Tears welled in her eyes as she screamed, voice cracking,
“Help! Someone, please—open the door!”
But no one came.
