One week later.
White walls. Soft beeping. Jill lay motionless in the hospital bed, her breath weak. The room was filled with the quiet sound of machines, the distant sound of footsteps, and the weight of silence.
Jill remained in a coma.
But in her mind, something else stirred.
In the dark theatre of her unconscious, she saw it—a womb, her womb, swollen and strange. Within it, a child was developing quicker than any human should. Each day in the dream brought about abnormal growth. The baby was growing, straining, jerking, and pushing. It pressed harder against her from the inside each day, filling her tummy like something not meant to be born.
It moved again—slowly and deliberately—its kick striking deep within her like a warning.
Jill gasped.
Her body jerked.
The fluorescent light above her flickered as her eyes opened. She squinted against the harshness, her throat dry and painful.
And somewhere deep in her belly, something shifted.
The ceiling lights blurred and burned. Jill's throat felt on fire. Her lips cracked from dryness. Everything inside her was painful.
Shapes began to emerge, recognisable but obscured by exhaustion and time. A chair stood beside Jill's bed, and someone leaned forward.
Anna.
Next to her stood Adex, tense and unsure.
"She's awake," Adex said quietly.
Anna jolted upright. Her eyes widened, then stared ahead, as emotion spilled across her face. She reached for Jill's hand.
"Jill," she breathed. "How are you feeling?"
Jill blinked slowly, her voice rasping from somewhere too deep. "I should've died."
"You didn't. You survived because you're a fighter," Anna whispered, gripping her tighter. "And I won't let you try it again."
Jill attempted to sit up but winced, her muscles feeling weak and stiff. "How long have I been out?"
"A week," Anna said gently. Then, with a wry smile, she added, "Guess who's been sleeping in that chair every night?"
Jill's eyes shifted. When they landed on Adex, her expression turned cold, and her mouth curled sharply. "What's he doing here?"
Anna hesitated. "I called him. I wasn't sure who else—"
"You should've left him out of this," Jill said, her voice quivering with rage.
"You don't know how terrified I was," Anna replied, her voice increasing with desperation. "I needed someone to talk to—and I remembered he once checked on you, though you ignored all his calls."
Jill said flatly, "That's because I don't need him," her words slicing the air.
"There's no need to get angry, Jill," Adex said, calm but cautious. "I'll be out in a minute."
Jill leaned back against the hospital bed, her eyes fixed on the ceiling. Her jaw tightened.
"Oh my God," she whispered, not to them, but to something more profound beyond the sterile room.
She clutched her stomach, her breath catching in her chest. The feeling had returned, and the movement continued.
And it was growing.
Adex stepped forward. "I know I'm not the person you want to see. But I didn't come for me."
Jill scoffed, her voice dry and bitter. "You think you can help? You don't know anything about what I'm going through."
"I read your journal," Adex stated.
The room became silent.
Jill's gaze shifted to Anna. "You what?"
Anna did not avoid her gaze. "We had to. You would not speak to anyone. It was the only way to understand what you had been going through."
Jill turned her face toward the window, her jaw tight. "You made everything worse."
"No," Adex said. "Now we know what we're up against."
"You know nothing," she yelled. "Nothing."
"I know you feel alone. I know you created a fantasy you can't undo," Adex said, his voice low but steady, a strange confidence tightening his jaw. "And I know about what's growing inside you."
Jill's fingers instinctively moved to her stomach. She rubbed it slowly, trying to understand what pulsed beneath her skin. Her gaze drifted away, unfocused. A single tear slipped down her cheek, silent and heavy.
But she didn't break; not entirely.
She blinked hard, inhaled sharply, and swallowed the emotion, the fear, and the truth.
Her hand rested on her belly.
"I didn't ask for this," she whispered.
"Jill, let me help you," Adex said softly, stepping closer, his voice barely above a whisper.
Jill avoided looking at him, her eyes fixed on the far wall and her hand resting on her stomach.
"You can't," she murmured. "No one can."
The room fell silent once more, filled only with the soft hum of the machines and the heaviness of everything left unsaid.
"Please, let me try," Adex spoke softly.
Anna yelled at him. "You aren't helping me. "You're going to make things worse." She paused, his expression blank. "I don't want to see you again."
Adex stood there for a second, stunned. "You serious?"
Jill looked at him. "Do I look like I'm joking?"
He held her gaze, something breaking behind his eyes. Then he nodded once. "All right."
Adex looked back at Anna, who stood frozen, her mouth slightly open, shocked by the coldness in Jill's voice. She didn't speak—just stared at him, as if she couldn't believe what had happened.
Without a word, Adex turned away. His footsteps were slow and deliberate.
He reached the door and walked out.
The door clicked softly behind him.
Somehow, that quiet sound landed heavier than a slam.
Anna stared at the closed door before turning back. Her face had changed—harder now.
"I'm disappointed in you," she said quietly.
Jill did not flinch.
Anna stood. "You have no idea how it felt to find you like that. Cold. Gone. I feared I had lost you."
"You'll never understand," Jill said, her voice low. "I'm doing this to protect you both."
Anna's voice rose, strained. "There's no harm in trying!"
Jill turned her head, her eyes rimmed red. "The same thing that killed Alice, my dad, and now Mom—it's not done. It's after you. And I can't stop it."
Anna's hands balled into fists. "You don't get to decide who dies."
"This isn't about choice," Jill stated, her voice shaking. "It wants me. It wants to pass through me. "And it won't stop."
"Then fight it!" Anna shouted.
"I tried!" Jill cried. "You think I wanted this? I hear it, Anna. It whispers. It waits. It moves in the corners, in my dreams, in my body. It's inside me. And now you've dragged Adex into this, too."
"I called Adex because you shut me out!" Anna's voice broke. "I needed someone—someone who still gave a damn!"
"You shouldn't have," Jill whispered, the last of her strength slipping away.
Anna's face distorted with anguish and wrath.
"If you still want to die," she said, voice trembling, "fine. But don't expect me to help you next time."
She turned and walked out.
No slam. No glance back.
Only the door clicked shut behind her.
Jill was overwhelmed by her thoughts as she burst into tears.