The moment her father stepped through the front door, Anastasia stormed up to him, her entire body vibrating with rage.
"They... THEY ARE EVIL!" she screamed so loud her throat burned.
Wyatt barely had time to close the door before Anastasia's words knocked the breath out of him. The whole room froze. Even Beth and Britney, lounging smugly on the couch, turned their heads lazily as if her outburst was nothing but a mild inconvenience.
"Anastasia, what is this about?" Wyatt asked, his forehead creased in confusion.
"THEM!" She jabbed a shaking finger at her stepmother and stepsister, eyes blazing with fury.
"Do NOT point at your mother! You're being rude!" Wyatt snapped.
"SHE IS NOT MY MOTHER!" Anastasia shrieked, her voice cracking under the weight of two years' worth of swallowed pain. "My real mother would NEVER treat me like trash! She wouldn't sit back and let her disgusting daughter destroy my life!"
A single tear slipped down her cheek, hot and humiliating, but she didn't care. The grief clawing at her chest was unbearable. Ever since her mother died, her life had been a never-ending nightmare. And now, now Britney had gone too far.
"Calm down, Ana. Breathe and tell me what happened," Wyatt said, his voice measured but cautious, as if one wrong move would set her off like a bomb.
"She... she..." Anastasia struggled to get the words out. Her breath came in sharp gasps. "She RUINED MY LIFE."
Wyatt's jaw tightened. "Who?"
She whipped her head around and glared at Britney, who, with a tiny smirk curling at the edges of her lips, looked as though she had already won. "HER! That wicked, conniving little—"
"Enough, Anastasia!" Beth snapped, leaping off the couch. "You will not speak to Britney like that!"
Wyatt raised a hand, his patience wearing thin. "Beth, wait. I want to hear what happened."
Anastasia's chest heaved as she sucked in a sharp breath. "She stole my phone. Pretended to be me. Texted Bastian—" her voice faltered, but she forced herself to keep going, "—broke up with him, and now he's in a coma."
The words hung in the air like a curse.
Wyatt's face drained of all color. "Bastian is in a coma?" he whispered.
"YES!" Anastasia wailed, her hands gripping her hair, as if she could pull the nightmare right out of her skull.
Wyatt staggered back, stunned. "But... how? How did this happen?"
Anastasia turned to Britney, the venom in her eyes lethal. "Tell him. Go on, tell him how you DESTROYED EVERYTHING."
Britney looked at her nails, unbothered. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
Anastasia let out a humorless, shaking laugh. "Oh, REALLY? You expect me to believe that? You expect Dad to believe that?!"
Wyatt ran a hand down his face, exhaling hard. "Ana, are you SURE it was Britney? That's a serious accusation."
Anastasia's vision blurred with rage. "Dad, who else?! You think SEAN did it?! You think MATT did it?! You think I would EVER break up with Bastian?! I LOVE HIM! And now he's... he's..." She choked on her own words. "He's barely holding on." Anastasia thought back to the phone call that had made her entire life seem unreal. "A little while ago, his mother gave me a call. She said Bass was at home in the kitchen and his phone went off. When he looked at his phone, he furiously got into his car, and soon after she heard a crash. When she went outside, she saw a wrangled car with a smashed windshield… and Bass not moving. He was not moving, Dad." Her voice cracked as the memories struck her like a wave, leaving her absolutely exhausted.
Beth folded her arms. "Even if Britney did do it, how is it her fault he's in a coma? Seems to me like your boyfriend was just reckless."
Anastasia felt something inside her snap. She lunged at Beth, ready to claw her face off, but Wyatt grabbed her by the arm just in time.
"That's ENOUGH!" His voice thundered through the house, shaking the walls.
Anastasia was panting, fists clenched so tightly her nails bit into her skin. "I NEED to see Bastian," she demanded, her voice barely more than a whisper.
Wyatt hesitated. "Ana, I don't think—"
"I'M GOING, DAD. With or without you."
Silence. A thick, suffocating silence. And then Wyatt sighed, defeated.
"Alright," he murmured. "I'll drive you."
The hospital smelled like antiseptic and grief.
Anastasia stood frozen in the doorway of Bastian's hospital room, her breath catching in her throat.
She didn't recognize him.
Bruises covered his face, dark and swollen, and there were tubes and wires everywhere. Machines beeped rhythmically, a cruel reminder that he was still alive, but barely.
Her legs trembled as she stepped forward, her heart pounding so hard it hurt. She reached for his hand, but the second her fingers touched his, a sob broke free from her throat. He was ice cold.
"Please, Bastian," she whispered, barely able to form the words. "Please don't leave me."
Mrs. Webber's voice, soft and shattered, came from the corner of the room. "They say coma patients can hear their loved ones. Talk to him, Ana. Maybe he can hear you."
Anastasia turned to Bastian's mother, her eyes burning with tears. "I should've chased after him," she said, her voice cracking. "I should've told him how much I love him. I should've—"
Mrs. Webber reached out and squeezed her shoulder. "The doctors..." She hesitated, pain deepening the wrinkles on her face. "They said he might not make it."
Anastasia's whole world shattered.
"No," she whispered. "No, he will. He HAS to."
But fear was slithering into her chest, wrapping around her lungs, squeezing until she could barely breathe.
She turned back to Bastian, tears dripping onto the bed sheets. "I love you," she murmured. "I don't deserve you, but please, wake up. I'll do anything. If you wake up, we'll run away together. I'll marry you tomorrow if you want. Just... just come back to me."
She leaned in, pressing the softest kiss against his bruised cheek.
For a second, she swore she felt his hand twitch.
Her breath caught. She grabbed his palm tighter. "Bastian? Bass, can you hear me?"
Then—
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
A shrill alarm ripped through the room.
"What's happening?!" Anastasia cried, panic rising in her chest as nurses and doctors flooded in.
"Miss, you need to step back," one of them ordered, gently pulling her away from the bed.
"No, NO! Let me stay! Bastian?!" she screamed, trying to fight against the hands restraining her.
Mrs. Webber's hands covered her mouth, muffling her sobs, her body trembling as she watched the chaos unfold.
And then—
The machines flatlined.
The room fell into a suffocating silence.
Anastasia felt her soul being ripped from her body as the doctor stepped out, his face etched with sorrow.
"I'm sorry."