Chapter 1
DAHLIA POV
Every night I say the same prayer.
for sleep to find me and take me somewhere safe and warm. But night never comes kindly.
It twists everything I’ve buried into something rotten.
My dreams don’t soothe me.
They punish me.
It’s been five years.
And it still feels like I’m stuck inside the same moment and can never escape.
That night. The one that broke everything.
I shouldn’t have gone out.
A late-night party I had no reason to attend. My parents warned me. I argued anyway. I always did what I wanted back then—with no thought or fear of the consequences. Like i was above it .
But was wrong.
That night, I nearly died.
But dying would have been easier than surviving.
My parents tried to fight for justice.
They went to the police station every day like persistence could undo the evil.
Then one evening, they didn’t come home.
The crash report said “unfortunate accident.”
But nothing about it felt accidental.
And somehow, I was still here.
Still breathing.
And as expected everyone moved on. People moved on quickly. They always do when it isn’t their grief.
At first, they whispered condolences.
Then silence. Then blame.
Five years later, I was no longer the girl who survived.
I was the girl who ruined everything.
Even my own bloodline turned on me.
“ they called me Disaster.”
“A Misfortune.”
“Look what she brought into this family.. a cursed brat.”
I stood at their graves once and heard it all behind me.
But I didn’t cry. I couldn’t.
It wasn’t that I didn’t feel it.
It was that I felt too much and nothing at the same time.
I stared at the stones again.
Cold marble. Names carved into permanence.A permanence caused by me.
My throat tightened.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
Useless words. Fragile words. Words that never once changed anything.
Sorry didn’t bring them back.
Sorry didn’t stop the crash.
Sorry didn’t quiet the part of me that kept replaying everything I should have done differently.
The part of me that never stopped asking:
Why me?
Why not me?
But if only one person had pulled me close and whispered”I know you’re not okay, but I’m proud of you for carrying so much, for going through so much and surviving… it’s not your fault ” I did fall apart. Maybe I would be this hollow version.
I stared at their graves once more.
Five years had passed, but it still felt like it all happened yesterday.
My throat tightened as I stared down at them.
“Miss you both ,” I whispered.
Now here I am back at the place I vowed never to return to.
Ashgrave City.
The place that held every nightmare I had ever survived and the ones I hadn’t yet understood.
My fingers tightened slightly at my sides before I finally forced myself to move.
One step back.
Then another.
Each step away from their graves felt heavier than the last, like I was leaving pieces of myself behind in the cold ground.
The drive back into Ashgrave was quiet. The Familiar streets passed by the window with a chilly feeling.
I kept my eyes forward.
Don’t want to look too long. Didn’t want to recall any unwanted memory.
Thankfully the uber driver saving me from fake conversations and pleasantries
Ashgrave hadn’t changed.
Same cold air. Same heavy sky. Same old buildings that looked like they were built on secrets no one ever bothered to dig up.
My chest tightened with every passing street.
Eventually, the car slowed.
We stopped in front of a tall building.
Mine.
My old home… I had brought it immediately I knew it was on sale again. The only were my parents still felt alive
I stepped out slowly, my shoes touching the pavement.
My hand tightened around my bag strap as I looked up at it.
You’ve got this,” I muttered under my breath.
I took a deep breath and walked toward the entrance anyway.
The doors slid open with a soft mechanical hum, swallowing me into the quiet lobby—
Except the quiet didn’t last.
A man was already there.
Bare chest. Inked skin covered in dark, intricate tattoos that crawled over his shoulders like they had a life of their own. He stood like he owned the space.
And the moment his eyes landed on me, the air shifted.
Cold. Sharp. Dangerous.
“Who are you?” he said, voice low and controlled—like he didn’t need to raise it to make it sound like a threat.
I didn’t get a chance to answer.
Because the next thing he said made my blood run colder than his stare..
“And who gave you permission to step into my building?”
