Page 202 of Bound By Crimson
Her hands shook when she tried to hold a spoon. Her legs ached after two steps. Her vision blurred when she stared too long.
She didn’t cry anymore.
She didn’t have the energy.
Only her mind stayed sharp. Quiet. Waiting.
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One night, as she lay on her side, listening to the silence between Noah’s cries, she whispered:
“He’s older now.”
It made her stomach twist. How long had it been?
Her breasts had stopped aching. The bleeding—long gone.
Her womb was silent. Her arms were empty.
They stole everything from me.
She didn’t know what day it was. Or month.
But her body did.
She had given birth a long time ago.
That night, she sat up too fast and nearly passed out.
Her body swayed. A cold sweat broke across her skin. Her tongue felt thick and sour.
The journal was still under the mattress, right where she’d hidden it weeks ago… or maybe months. She tried to focus on it—but her eyes wouldn’t focus.
She blinked—hard—but they were still blurry.
She fell back onto the pillow, dizzy and panting.
What is happening to me?
That’s when she remembered.
A voice. A conversation. A name.
Walter.
His words came back in pieces:
“They say he was poisoned… started feeling ill… slow at first. Tired. Upset stomach… And then… gone.”
Lyric stared at the ceiling.
Her heart was beating too fast.
Not from fear.
From clarity.
She wasn’t just weak.
