Kieran's eyes were feral, his hair wild and pulled in every direction, like he'd been clawing at it for hours. Doctor Aiden hesitated before speaking, the weight of the room settling heavily on his shoulders. It was clear he knew—he was standing in front of a man teetering on the edge of madness.
"What the hell are you waiting for? Should I put a bullet through your fucking brain before you wake her up?" Kieran snarled.
The doctor instinctively took a step back, eyes darting to Damon and Leo, who stood a few feet away near the door. Damon shot Kieran a glance, then subtly looked him over, checking—hoping—he wasn't actually armed.
Doctor Aiden swallowed hard. "What I'm trying to say is… she's awake. But she's stuck. Trapped in what looks like a traumatic dissociative state. Her eyes are open, yes, but she's not really here. It's like her mind's somewhere else—far away."
Kieran's nostrils flared. "Trapped where?"
"She's reliving something," the doctor said quietly, his tone careful. "Something buried. Deep. Whatever happened today—the attempted abduction—it may have cracked open a memory or shock she's never recovered from."
Damon's jaw tightened. "Triggered what, exactly?"
"I can't say for sure," Aiden replied. "But this isn't catatonia. She's breathing, blinking, showing signs of physical awareness. But mentally? She's shut down. Detached. It's a common response in people with long-term trauma. It's like her body stayed here… but her mind ran and hid."
Leonardo folded his arms, voice stiff. "She's been mute for years. Could that be a reason ?"
The doctor hesitated. "Her mutism is selective—something she controlled, even if it was rooted in fear. But this? This isn't a choice. She's not silent. She's… gone."
Kieran looked like he might explode. His fists clenched at his sides, veins visible beneath the skin. "So how the fuck do we bring her back?"
"There's no magic button," Aiden said gently. "We have to ground her. Anchor her. Familiar voices, comforting scents, safe touches—they can help. But it takes time. If we push her, we risk pushing her further away."
Kieran turned away, raking a hand through his already tangled hair. "I'll kill him," he muttered under his breath. "I swear to God, I'll find him and tear him apart piece by piece."
"She needs peace right now, not more rage," Damon said, voice low and firm. "But we'll get him. You know we will."
Aiden gave a small nod. "Let her rest. Stay close. Talk to her. Even if she doesn't react. She needs to feel presence. To know she's not alone."
Kieran approached the bed like a man haunted, his expression fractured, his shoulders weighed down by helplessness. He sank to his knees beside her and took her hand in his. Her fingers were cold. Still. But real. Tangible.
"I'm here," he whispered, voice shaking. "You're safe, baby. No one's taking you again. I promise."
She didn't blink. Didn't flinch. Her eyes remained wide, distant, staring past him like he wasn't even there. But then, a single tear slid down her cheek. Silent. Slow.
And for Kieran—that one tear was everything.
Two days later...
The Blackwood Estate was wrapped in an uneasy silence. No laughter, no music, no footsteps echoing through the halls. Just the kind of stillness that made the walls feel like they were holding their breath.
The little miss still hadn't come back to them.
And Kieran? He was a storm waiting to erupt. No one dared cross his path. Even Daisy, bright and full of questions, kept her voice low.
She sat curled on the couch beside her grandmother, clutching a soft rabbit doll. Her eyes were glassy, filled with the kind of worry only children felt but didn't fully understand.
"Grandma," she whispered, tugging at the older woman's sleeve. "When is Lily going to wake up? It's been two whole days."
Eliana looked down, brushing a soft curl from Daisy's forehead. "She's just resting, baby. Her heart's been through a lot."
"I miss her," Daisy said, lip trembling. "And Uncle Kieran misses her too. He doesn't even smile anymore."
She pulled her close, wrapping the girl in a warm hug. "She hears us, even if it doesn't look like it. And she's trying to come back. Sometimes love is what leads the way home."
Grandma Eliana wiped her hands on her apron and crouched beside Daisy, gently brushing a loose curl from the girl's forehead. "She's just very tired, baby. Her heart's been through a lot. But she hears us. She just needs time."
Daisy's lower lip trembled. "But… what if she doesn't come back?"
Eliana pulled her into a warm hug, holding her close. "She will. Because you're waiting. And because Kieran's waiting too. Sometimes, when people are hurting, they get lost inside themselves. But love—" she placed her hand over Daisy's chest, "—love has a way of finding them."
Daisy sniffled and nodded, rubbing her face against her grandma's shoulder.
Across the hallway, Kieran stood silently against the doorframe, arms folded tightly across his chest. He hadn't shaved. He hadn't slept. He hadn't left Genesis's side except when someone physically dragged him away to eat or shower. He heard every word.
Without a word, he turned and headed back upstairs.
He stepped into their room. Genesis still lay there—eyes open but blank, her body still and quiet.
"I brought Daisy's drawing," he murmured, pulling a crumpled sheet of paper from his pocket. "She drew you a flower garden. With cats. Said it'd make you smile."
He sat beside her, careful not to jostle the bed, and his voice softened into a broken hum of memory.
"Do you remember when she made you wear that paper crown? Called you Queen Lily of Pancake Land?" A small, choked laugh escaped him. "You let her. Sit there with syrup on your cheek like it was royal jewels."
Still, no response.
Then—just a twitch.
His breath caught. His gaze snapped to her hand.
"Genesis?" he whispered, leaning in. "Do that again. Please. Baby, if you can hear me… come back. Just squeeze my hand. Anything."
Nothing.
Then—slowly, faintly—her fingers curled around his.
His throat tightened. Tears burned his eyes.
"I've got you," he whispered fiercely, kissing her knuckles. "You're not alone. I'll be right here. For as long as you need."
And Kieran stayed—he didn't care about work, calls, meetings. None of it mattered. Nothing mattered but her. As he sat there, eyes locked on her face, he gently stroked her arm and prayed—prayed to a God he wasn't sure he believed in.
A knock came at the door.
He didn't move.
Another knock. Still, he didn't speak. Didn't look away.
Then the door creaked open, and Revelation stepped inside.
She hesitated. He didn't even glance at her.
She looked at Genesis, her hand curling into a fist. "Sorry to disturb you, sir… but there are some people here to see the missus."
That got his attention.
Kieran turned to her slowly. His eyes were bloodshot, shadowed by dark circles. Revelation swallowed hard.
"Who are they?"
"They said they're friends… from her ballet class."
He looked away. "Send them away."
She bit her lip. "But sir…"
"Are you deaf?" His voice was calm—too calm.
She flinched but stood firm. "This could help her, sir. Please… let them come in."
He stared at her for a moment. She braced herself, unsure what he might do—but instead, he rose to his feet, walked past her, and paused at the doorway.
"Watch her," he said coldly. "If she so much as blinks, tell me."
Then he was gone.
Revelation turned back to Genesis, her eyes narrow
ing. And slowly, a smirk tugged at the corner of her lips.
She took a step forward—and pulled something from behind her back.