Chapter 3
Sleep refused to come to Evelyn as she lay awake in her king-sized bed, staring at the ceiling.
Every time she closed her eyes, she heard the boy's haunting whisper echoing in her mind.
At three in the morning, she quietly slid into her wheelchair and navigated down the carpeted hallway.
She entered her private dressing room and opened the hidden safe behind the floor-to-ceiling mirror.
Inside sat her late father's personal leather journal, untouched since his funeral half a decade ago.
Evelyn flipped through the yellowed pages until she reached the entries from ten years prior.
Her father's handwriting became erratic around the date of her catastrophic automobile accident.
One line in particular made her blood run completely cold: The nerve graft succeeded, but the surrogate boy survived.
Evelyn pressed her trembling fingers against her mouth to suppress a terrified gasp.
All these years, she believed her mobility loss was caused by irreversible spinal damage sustained in the crash.
She looked at her wrist scar again, realizing for the first time that it resembled a surgical incision, not a crash wound.
A sudden noise near the study door made her freeze instantly in the dim lighting.
Julian was standing in the doorway, his silhouette imposing against the hallway lights in his dark silk robe.
"What are you doing up so late, Evelyn?" Julian asked, his voice dripping with smooth, dangerous calm.
Evelyn quickly closed the journal and placed it in her lap, trying to hide her racing pulse.
"I couldn't sleep," she replied smoothly, forcing a soft, natural smile onto her face.
Julian stepped into the room, his eyes scanning the open safe with quiet, sharp suspicion.
"You shouldn't stress yourself over old memories, my love," he said, stepping behind her wheelchair.
May you like
He placed his large, warm hands on her shoulders, leaning down to kiss the top of her blonde head.
"Let me take you back to bed before you catch a chill."
