She Did Not Wake

Celeste was taken to the Saint Silver Ward before dawn.

By the time I arrived, half the Vale family had filled the hospital corridor.

Marina was barefoot, hair loose, screaming at every healer who passed.

Father sat on a bench with his head in his hands.

And Damon Blackwell stood outside Celeste’s room.

His face was white.

Not vampire-pale.

Afraid-pale.

I had never seen him look like that for me.

Not when I was sick.

Not when I cried.

Not when I begged him to stay on the blood-link call for five more minutes.

He stared through the glass at Celeste’s still body as if the world would end if she stopped breathing.

For one vicious second, I hoped it would.

I hoped she would never open her eyes.

Then Marina saw me.

Her scream tore through the corridor.

“You!”

Everyone turned.

She rushed at me, finger shaking.

“You did this! You hated her because Damon chose her!”

I said nothing.

Father stood.

I looked at him, waiting.

Still waiting, always waiting, for him to choose me once.

His hand struck my face so hard I fell to the floor.

The corridor blurred.

No one helped me up.

Marina collapsed into a chair, wailing.

“My Celeste! She was supposed to compete in the Silver Lyre Contest next week. She was going to be famous. You ruined her!”

Father looked down at me.

His eyes were colder than I had ever seen them.

“Call the Night Watch,” he said. “Let them investigate.”

So they did.

I was taken away before sunrise.

The questioning room smelled of iron, old magic, and rain.

I told the Watchers where I had been. I told them what I had done. I told them what I had not done.

By evening, they confirmed everything.

The Sleeping Hex Seal had been purchased by Celeste herself.

Her identification had been registered.

The shopkeeper remembered her asking about dosage, activation, and risks.

I had not touched the seal.

I had not been home when she activated it.

There was no evidence against me.

When the Watchers brought me back to the hospital to explain their findings, Marina broke.

“No,” she whispered.

Then louder.

“No. No, that’s impossible.”

A Watcher frowned.

“Mrs. Vale?”

Marina grabbed his sleeve.

“She couldn’t have used the real seal. I changed it.”

The corridor went silent.

Father lifted his head.

Marina did not seem to notice.

“I found it in her drawer,” she babbled. “I knew she was planning something stupid. I replaced it with a harmless protection charm. I swear I did.”

The Watchers exchanged glances.

“If you replaced the hex seal,” one of them said slowly, “then how did the real one return to her possession?”

Marina’s mouth opened.

No sound came out.

I looked at Father.

For one second, something flickered across his face.

Not grief.

Not shock.

Calculation.

Then it vanished.

He lowered his head again and became the heartbroken father.

Celeste never woke up.

Three days later, the healers said the hex had damaged her soul beyond repair.

A week later, Father signed the release papers.

Marina screamed until her voice disappeared.

Damon stopped coming after the second day.

And I stood at Celeste’s funeral in a black dress, watching snow fall onto her coffin, thinking I had finally won.

I was wrong.

I had not won anything.

I had only survived long enough to learn who the real monster was.