Prologue- Singer's dream

The sound of my mom and sister arguing pulled me out of my daydream about performing at the New York Talent Show. I had been picturing it all—the grand stage illuminated with dazzling lights, the thunderous applause, the exhilaration of knowing I had given everything to that one moment. But reality crashed down around me as my sister’s voice rang out, sharp and petulant.

My sister was insisting on staying with my aunt, refusing to come along and watch me perform on stage. She’s never really liked me, and she’s never bothered to hide it. She’s the kind of person who speaks her mind without considering anyone else’s feelings.

We were getting ready to leave for our flight to New York. This was a dream come true, and I wasn’t about to let my sister ruin it for me.

"But Mom, I’ve wanted to go all along! I was only joking when I said I didn’t want to. Can’t we figure out a way for me to come with? I really do want to go to New York," my sister pleaded.

"The decision is final, Nicole. We can’t change the arrangements now. You should have thought about this before joking around and keeping up the act," Mom snapped, her frustration evident. My sister, however, did everything she could to stall for time.

"Would you guys just go already? You’re going to miss your flight!" my aunt called out as she stepped through the front door, my uncle following close behind. Turning to Nicole, she added firmly, "Get your bags inside. What’s done is done—you’re staying the week, and that’s final." With that, she ended the argument on my mom’s behalf.

My sister glared at all of us, her frustration practically radiating off her in waves, but she stomped inside without another word.

My dad was already waiting in the car, and I sighed in relief as he honked the car horn and shouted from the driver’s side window, 'Let’s go, let’s go!'

We hurried through our goodbyes, the tension still lingering in the air like an unfinished storm and made our way to the car. The moment I stepped outside, the heat hit me like a suffocating wave, wrapping around my skin and clinging to every inch of my body. The air felt thick, heavy—almost oppressive, as if the sun itself was bearing down on me with an unforgiving weight.

By the time I slid into the backseat, a bead of sweat had already begun trailing down my spine. But then—bliss. The moment the air vents blasted their cool, crisp relief against my flushed skin, I closed my eyes, exhaling a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. The suffocating heat melted away, chased off by the artificial breeze, and for the first time all morning, my muscles relaxed.

As the car rumbled to life and pulled away from the Gabriel Estate, I let my head fall back against the seat, allowing the cool air to soothe me while I tried to shake off the lingering tension of the morning.

As my dad pulled out of the driveway, I found myself staring at the Gabriel Estate, disappearing behind us. A castle-like mansion disappearing behind us as we pulled out of the driveway.

It looked like something out of a European fairy tale, an architectural marvel that had withstood the test of time. Tall, pointed towers rose on all four sides, their elegant spires reaching toward the heavens as if they commanded the very sky. Each tower was adorned with a stone gargoyle, regal yet imposing, their carved features worn by centuries of wind and rain. Their presence wasn’t menacing but protective, standing guard over the mansion like silent sentinels.

The sprawling estate was a masterpiece of old-world craftsmanship, its towering arched windows framed with intricate wrought iron designs that gleamed in the sunlight. Ivy cascaded along the stone walls, adding a touch of timeless beauty, as if nature itself had chosen to embrace the mansion rather than reclaim it. Though the once-cream-colored façade bore the marks of age with soft streaks of green and brown, it only added to its charm—an aging beauty that whispered of history, of generations that had called it home.

It wasn’t just a house; it was a legacy. A place where stories had been written into its walls, where secrets lingered in the corridors, and where every room held echoes of a time long before my own.

I was pulled out of my thoughts when my mom turned on the radio, and my favourite song started playing. I couldn’t help myself—I began to sing along, excitement bubbling inside me. This event was everything I’d dreamed of—the people I’d meet, the opportunities ahead, and the chance to perform in front of record label talent scouts. My mom joined in, and when I caught my dad glancing at us through the rear-view mirror, his face lit up with the biggest smile. He looked so proud.

One moment, I was singing. The next—chaos.

Air wrenched from my lungs as if a giant hand had crushed my chest. My body jolted forward, slamming violently into the seat in front of me. A sickening crack echoed in my skull, white-hot pain exploding through my head. My mom’s scream barely reached my ears before everything snapped to black.

________________________________________

“Nadia, you have to wake up," a voice whispered.

Blinding light surrounded me, making it almost impossible to open my eyes. Everything was stark white, and then, out of nowhere, a sudden jolt coursed through me. Air flooded into my lungs as my heart pounded furiously in my throat.

My eyes began to focus, but my surroundings were completely unfamiliar. I didn’t know where I was. Out of the corner of my vision, a male face came into view. His beach-blond hair clung to his face, damp with sweat. Beads of it rolled down his forehead and dripped onto his neck.

“Thank goodness. She’s alive,” I heard him whisper, almost to himself.

He leaned back against what I now realized was the metal side of an ambulance. “Nadia, is it?”

I managed a small nod—talking wasn’t an option. My throat burned, and my mouth was parched, as if I hadn’t had water in days.

“You’re being transported to the nearest hospital. You were in a head-on collision and… barely made it.” His voice faltered slightly as he checked the monitor tracking my vital signs.

“My name is Dave,” he added, giving me a kind smile while adjusting the saline bag hanging beside me. “Just stay still for now. We’re almost there.”

Relief washed over his face as he leaned back against the side of the ambulance, taking a deep breath.

I wanted to process what he’d said, but the words felt like they were echoing in a tunnel, distant and unreal.

Overwhelmed, I felt a sudden wave of nausea as my vision blurred. The world around me began to spin.

I closed my eyes, but it only made the spinning worse. A sickening heaviness settled in my stomach, and it felt as if the ground were trying to swallow me whole.

Darkness crept in, and before I knew it, my world faded to black again.

________________________________________

When I regained consciousness, bright lights flickered above me, their harsh glare making it hard to focus. Voices buzzed all around, overlapping in a cacophony of urgency. The air felt charged with movement as people rushed back and forth.

Dave’s face appeared above me, his expression calm yet filled with concern. “Everything will be alright, Nadia,” he said softly, giving my arm a reassuring squeeze before stepping aside.

I barely had time to process his words before I was pushed into another room, this one even brighter. The fluorescent lights burned against my already sensitive eyes.

They transferred me onto a new bed, its surface cold and unyielding. As my back touched the icy mattress, I let out an involuntary grunt, immediately regretting it as pain flared in my throat. That’s when I realized there was a tube in it, restricting my every movement.

A man who appeared to be a doctor leaned into my field of vision, his face calm but focused. “You’re going to go back to sleep for a bit,” he said, his voice steady and soothing.

Before I could even attempt to respond, a wave of drowsiness washed over me, pulling me under. Within seconds, everything faded to black once more.

________________________________________

Darkness surrounded me. Bodies lay scattered across the ground, pools of blood glistening beneath them. The air reeked of rotting flesh, the stench so overwhelming that my eyes watered, and my body convulsed involuntarily.

From the mist creeping in, a black, smoky figure emerged, its glowing orange-red eyes piercing through the darkness.

"You did this. All of this is your fault. I gave you the chance to hand it all over to me," the figure spoke in an eerily calm yet accusatory tone.

My chest tightened. "Who are you? What did I have to give you?" My voice trembled as I fought to conceal my fear. A cold dread seeped into my bones, every nerve in my body shivering with confusion and terror.

I was about to ask another question when, suddenly, the scene began to fade. A soft, feminine voice echoed in the distance.

"Nadia... Can you hear me? Nadia..."

I slowly opened my eyes, blinking against the brightness. A young nurse with a gentle smile stood beside me.

"Good to see you're waking up. You had the doctors worried a few times during surgery," she said, walking to the foot of my bed to fill out paperwork.

"My name is Zena," she added, still focused on the clipboard in her hands.

My throat felt raw and dry. "Can I... get some water?" I croaked, my voice barely audible.

She heard me, though, and immediately poured a glass, holding a straw to my lips. The cool water was a blessing, like fresh spring water after a day’s walk in the desert.

Just then, the doctor who had spoken to me in the operating room walked in. He offered a sympathetic smile. "Good, you're awake. I'm Doctor Ian." He hesitated, fidgeting with his hands before continuing. "The two passengers in the car with you… were they your parents?" His voice was gentle, cautious.

A sinking feeling settled in my chest. In all the chaos, I had forgotten about my parents.

"Y-Yes," I whispered, my throat still burning.

His face fell. "Miss, I’m so sorry, but they didn’t make it. When the paramedics arrived at the scene, they were declared deceased."

I stared at him in disbelief. I couldn't breathe. It felt like the air was being ripped from my lungs all over again.

Why? How? Everything was going so well—why did this have to happen?

Doctor Ian shifted uncomfortably, glancing at his shoes before meeting my eyes again. "You barely made it, but by some miracle, you're still here."

"Thank goodness," Zena murmured sympathetically.

The doctor walked over to her and reviewed the paperwork. "We’ll be keeping you here for the week to ensure you're stable and can manage without medical intervention," he said while scanning the pages.

He looked up at me once more. "You’ll be able to have visitors in a few minutes. There are people waiting outside." Then, with a nod, he left the room.

Zena moved the water jug closer to me and offered a kind smile. "I’m so sorry about your parents. If you need anything, just press the call button," she said, pointing to the remote attached to my bed before quietly exiting the room.

Moments later, my aunt Patricia and uncle Brendan walked in. My aunt looked like a ghost—her sunken eyes swollen and red, evidence of many shed tears. My uncle looked equally exhausted, avoiding my gaze.

The moment my aunt's eyes met mine, she broke down, tears spilling freely.

For the first time since I heard the news, I allowed myself to cry.

She rushed to my side and threw her arms around me, holding me tightly as we wept together, releasing every emotion until there were no tears left.

Soft footsteps approached the room. I turned, hopeful, only to freeze when I saw my sister. Relief washed over me for a split second—until I noticed the way she was looking at me.

Was I imagining it? No. Her eyes held something unmistakable- blame.

"It's all your fault," she said coldly, her voice laced with bitterness. "Why did you have to go to that stupid talent show? If you hadn't, Mom and Dad would still be here."

A single tear slipped down her cheek, but she wiped it away quickly, spinning on her heel and walking out without another word.

I turned to my aunt, desperate for reassurance, but she looked just as stunned as I felt.

After everything that had happened, my sister blamed me.

Maybe she was right. If I hadn’t asked to go to that talent show, Mom and Dad would still be here...

________________________________________

The week passed in a blur, as if I were watching my own life from a distance. I was relieved to finally leave the hospital and its uncomfortable bed, but going home—without my parents—felt unbearable.

Home would never be the same again.

So, my aunt and I decided I would stay with them for now, until I felt strong enough to face the emptiness waiting for me there.