Gasping for air, I wake up with a jolt, my body cold and aching. The sound of crashing waves mingles with the faint notes of classical music playing softly in the background.
I blink against the dim glow of lights that flicker like fireflies, illuminating the ornate decor of the Kingsley family seaside villa. The air is thick with the scent of salt and something else—something rotten, lurking just beneath the surface of nostalgia.
The last thing I remember is the blinding light, the screech of tyres, and then nothing. I should be in a hospital, surrounded by sterile white walls and the echo of frantic footsteps. Confusion washes over me. Why am I here?
I push myself up, my limbs are heavy and uncooperative. My movements are sluggish as if I am wading through thick fog. My heart races, a staccato rhythm against the stillness of the corridor.
The classical music floats through the air, soft and melancholic, a haunting melody that feels like a memory I can't quite grasp.
I rise unsteadily, my feet touching the cool marble floor. Each step feels like I am walking through a dream—disjointed and surreal.
Then I see her—a figure gliding through the corridor, her silhouette illuminated by the soft light. Sunny. My sister. I call out her name, my voice cracking like ice beneath the weight of desperation.
"Sunny!" I rush after her, my heart hammering in my chest, but she doesn't turn. She moves with an otherworldly grace, her long hair trailing behind her like shadows.
She turns a corner, and I follow her through the familiar halls, my mind racing. She disappears into a bedroom and closes the door behind her. I don't stop; I can't stop. I reach the door and, without thinking, try to push it open. Instead of feeling the solid wood, I pass through it, stumbling into the room like a ghost.
I stagger forward disoriented, and gaze around. Panic grips me. What is happening? I look around and realise I am in the bedroom Roan and I shared during our honeymoon, the room we always stayed in when we visited the island.
The room is just as I remember it, the soft linens, the scent of jasmine, the view of the moonlit ocean through the window. My heart pounds in my chest. Why is Sunny here?
Sunny stands by the bed, her posture relaxed, but her expression is twisted, a smile that feels more like a smirk. I have never seen her expression like this. Sunny has always been like her name, sunny and kind but now.
"Did you deal with her?" she asks, her voice smooth yet laced with a chilling undertone. My heart sinks, a stone dropping into the depths of despair. Who is she talking about?
I rush to her side, panic clawing at my insides. "Sunny! Who are you talking about?" My voice is a scream trapped in silence, a desperate plea that she cannot hear. I reach out, but my hand passes through her as if she is made of mist.
She turns slightly, her eyes sparkling with a sinister delight. "And the baby," she continues, her voice softening, "are you sure it won't survive?"
The words hang in the air, heavy like a noose tightening around my throat. I stand frozen, the room spinning. My world collapses, shattering into pieces as the reality of her betrayal sinks in.
Sunny has betrayed me and turned against me. She is not the sister I grew up with. She is a spectre of malice, cloaked in familiarity like a wolf in sheep's clothing.
I feel numb, a hollow shell of the person I once was. The memories of shared laughter, secrets whispered under the stars, dissolve like smoke. I want to scream, to confront her, to rip the veil of deception from her face but I can't get my revenge. I am now but a ghost.
Sunny turns, her smile widening as she looks into the mirror, her reflection shimmering with an uncanny glow. "You thought you could have it all, didn't you?" she whispers to herself, but I hear every word. "I can finally reclaim what is mine."
An eerie, haunting aura surrounds me as I seethe with rage. My ghostly form trembles with the intensity of my emotions. I want revenge. I want to tear Sunny apart for her betrayal. I want to drag her down into the abyss with me.
Just as I am about to explode the door creaks open. Roan. My husband, though the title feels like ash in my mouth, walks in. My eyes narrow, glaring at the man who made me so miserable.
Sunny rushes over to him, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. "Thank you for inviting me as your plus one to this celebration dinner," she says, her voice sickeningly sweet. I watch in horror as her fingers rest on his chest. She presses her cheek against his shoulder, a place where my touch was once met with disgust and rejection. But now, he welcomes her touch.
For a fleeting moment, Roan glances in my direction, a flicker of awareness, perhaps? But he can't see me, can't feel the storm brewing within my essence. He is oblivious to the tempest that rages just behind the veil of reality. I can't help it. My lips twist into a grotesque smile my expression contorting like a resentful ghost, a reflection of the darkness welling inside me.
This is what was happening behind my back. This was the important meeting he left home for for more than a month.
A laugh escapes my lips, the sound so hollow it echoes off the walls, reverberating through the space like a death knell.
They cannot hear me, though; I am nothing but a whisper in the wind. But oh, how I wish they could. "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you so much Roan!" The words scream through my mind, a mantra of despair, but they fall silent on the mortal plane.
I clench my fists, the air around me crackling with a violent energy. I raise my hand, ready to slap Roan, to make him feel the weight of my betrayal, to tear through the fabric of his blissful ignorance. Suddenly, a gust of wind howls through the window, swirling around me like a malevolent spirit.
Roan's brows knit together as he feels the shift in the atmosphere, his eyes narrowing as he scans the room. It's as if he senses the darkness creeping in, the shadows thickening around us. But he is powerless to see me, to comprehend the truth of what is happening.
Before I can act, something grips me, an unseen force pulling me from the room. Panic surges within me, a visceral reaction to the violation of my rage.
I fight against it, but the grip is strong and inescapable. I can only watch, helplessly as the scene unfolds. Roan standing frozen and Sunny still ensconced in her delusion of affection.
I still want to slap that face hard but I am already being pulled into the darkness, the world around me blurring as I scream into the void. The last thing I see is the way Sunny's fingers linger on his chest, the way Roan's smile falters as the wind howls louder.