My heartbeat pounded so loud I was sure someone outside the room could hear it. Mariana reached for my wrist, her grip trembling but urgent.
“It’s not what you think,” she whispered. “But it’s worse.”
The movement under the bandage shifted again—slow, unnatural, deliberate. I swallowed hard, forcing myself not to look away this time. Whatever I had stepped into, there was no escaping it now.
“Years ago,” Mariana began, her voice hollow, “my father invested in something he couldn’t control. A private experiment. Illegal. Hidden.” She closed her eyes briefly, as if reliving it. “They needed a human subject. Someone who wouldn’t be missed.”
My stomach dropped. “And he chose you…”
She nodded once.
“They implanted something inside me. They said it would make me stronger, healthier… worth more.” A bitter smile flickered across her lips. “But it grew. Changed. It wasn’t human anymore.”
Another movement pulsed beneath her skin.
I stepped closer before I could stop myself, fear battling something else—something unexpected. Compassion.
“Why me?” I asked quietly.
“Because it’s becoming unstable,” she said. “And my father believes the only way to contain it… is to transfer it.”
The room went cold.
“To me?” My voice barely existed.
Footsteps echoed faintly in the hallway.
Mariana’s eyes widened. “He’s coming.”
For a second, everything in me screamed to run. To leave the house, the city, this nightmare behind. But then I looked at her—not as Don Ricardo’s daughter, not as a burden forced onto me…
But as someone who had never been given a choice.
I moved quickly, locking the door and pulling her away from the bed.
“We’re not staying,” I said.
The handle shook violently.
“Diego, you don’t understand—”
“I understand enough.”
The window was small. The drop was dangerous. But staying was worse.
As the door began to crack open, I helped her climb out into the night, into uncertainty… into freedom.
Because sometimes, the greatest courage isn’t facing what’s inside the darkness—
It’s choosing to escape it… together.