Chapter 3 - The Awakening
The rhythmic beep of the heart monitor was the first thing that anchored me to reality. I slowly fluttered my eyes open, blinded by the harsh fluorescent lights of the ICU.
My body felt like it had been crushed under a freight train. There were tubes in my arms, and a dull, aching emptiness in my abdomen.
Panic hit me like a lightning bolt. My babies.
"Hey, hey. Easy," a gentle voice murmured.
I turned my head. Sitting in the uncomfortable plastic chair next to my bed was Marcus. He looked exhausted, still wearing his blood-stained uniform pants, but he offered me a warm, reassuring smile.
"The twins?" I rasped, my throat raw from the intubation tube they had just removed.
"They're fighters, Elena," Marcus said, leaning in. "They are in the NICU. Small, but they are breathing on their own. You did incredible."
Tears of profound relief spilled down my cheeks. "You saved us. Thank you. Thank you so much."
"I just did my job," he said humbly. Then, his face hardened slightly. "Elena... the police are outside. They need to take your statement. Your husband is in custody."
The mention of Julian's name was like a shot of ice water straight to my veins. I remembered his cold eyes. I remembered the heavy slam of the deadbolt. I remembered Beatrice sneering at my agony.
"Good," I whispered, the fear completely evaporating, leaving behind a cold, forged steel anger. "Send them in."
For an hour, I recounted every horrific detail to the detectives. I didn't cry. I didn't shake. I laid out the absolute abandonment I had suffered. By the time I finished, the female detective had a look of murderous intent in her eyes.
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"We have enough to hold him, Mrs. Vance," she promised. "He won't get near you or those children."
As she left, I stared at the ceiling. Julian thought I was a fragile, submissive trophy wife who would just take his abuse. He was about to find out exactly what kind of monster he had awakened.
