A Silent War
RONNY’S POV
The first stir of movement from the bed pulled me out of my thoughts.
Liliana’s fingers twitched against mine. Her lips parted, and a soft sound—half sigh, half whisper—escaped her throat. My chest tightened.
Then her lashes fluttered, slow and heavy, like it cost her a lifetime of effort just to drag them open.
Her eyes found me first. Clouded with fatigue, rimmed with shadows, but still that same molten depth that always had the power to gut me.
“Ronny…” Her voice was fragile, so soft I had to lean in to catch it.
I smoothed my thumb across her hand. “I’m here.”
Her gaze drifted, blinking against the light, taking in the hospital room with its sterile walls and humming machines. For a moment, confusion knitted her brows. And then—clarity.
Her lips trembled. “Where’s my dad? Did he… come to see me?”
The question sliced through me before I could brace for it.
I hesitated too long.
Her brow furrowed deeper, searching my face, already sensing the answer in the silence I couldn’t swallow down.
“No,” I finally said, forcing the word through clenched teeth. “None of your family has been here.” My jaw worked, anger threatening to choke me, but I steadied my voice for her sake. “But Erika came by. She was here earlier.”
Her lashes fluttered again. Her face paled, her lips parting as though the air itself hurt to breathe.
“Erika… left?” Her whisper broke on the second word. “What happened?”
My gaze flicked to the door before returning to her. I couldn’t give her the truth, not yet. Not when suspicion still knotted like barbed wire in my chest.
“Don’t worry about that right now.” I brushed the hair gently from her face. “You need to focus on healing.”
But Liliana wasn’t buying it. I saw it in the way her eyes narrowed, sharp despite the haze of painkillers.
Suspicion.
Her silence was louder than any accusation. She turned her head slightly, her lips pressing together, her body stiff against the sheets.
Before I could say anything more, the sound of the door opening cut through the tension like a blade.
Boots against tile. The air shifted.
Erika stepped in.
Her frown was immediate, carved deep into her face. Her shoulders squared as though she were walking into battle.
For a moment, the room was locked in frozen silence—the three of us suspended in some invisible standoff.
Liliana, fragile in the bed.
Me, still gripping her hand like a vow.
And Erika, standing at the threshold with stormclouds in her eyes.
Liliana’s gaze flicked between us, sharp as a blade despite the weakness in her body. She could taste the tension; I could see it in the way her lips parted, her breath quickened.
“Am I missing something?”
Her voice was quiet, but it landed like a thunderclap in the silence.
I didn’t let go of her hand. Didn’t look away.
“It’s nothing,” I said, my tone clipped but steady. “Nothing you need to worry about. Just focus on recovering.”
The lie burned like acid in my throat, but I forced it down. She didn’t need the weight of my suspicion right now.
Liliana tilted her head, studying me with eyes too perceptive for my liking. She’d always been able to see through me, peel back the layers I thought I’d welded shut.
But this time, she didn’t push. Not with me.
Instead, she turned to Erika.
“My dad hasn’t come to see me?”
The question was fragile, laced with something dangerous beneath the surface.
Erika’s expression flickered, but only for a fraction of a second. Then she shook her head slowly.
“He didn’t know about the accident,” she said, her voice too careful, too even. “That’s why he hasn’t been here.”
Liliana’s lips parted in disbelief. Her eyes widened, pain flashing in them that had nothing to do with her injuries.
“Didn’t… know?” Her voice cracked. “That’s not true.”
Erika’s shoulders stiffened. “What do you mean?”
“My dad called me last night,” Liliana whispered, her voice trembling with fury and grief all at once. “He said something was going on at home. I was rushing back to see him before…” Her voice faltered, breaking. “Before my brakes failed.”
Her chest rose and fell sharply. Her eyes burned with unshed tears.
“And he didn’t even come to see me?” she demanded, her voice rising. “That’s crazy. That’s insane. Talk about having a dad!”
Her anger broke on the last word. She turned her face away, to the wall, her shoulders rigid. But I knew. I knew she was crying.
And Liliana—Liliana wasn’t the kind of woman who cried easily. Which meant this cut her deeper than any wound I could see.
I tightened my grip on her hand, silent, steady, refusing to let go even as her body shook.
Erika opened her mouth, but before she could speak, a knock rattled against the door—impatient, urgent.
We all froze.
The handle twisted. The door swung wide.
And there he was.
Her father.
His face was pale, lined with panic, his eyes darting around the room until they landed on Liliana. Behind him, her stepmother hovered with feigned distress painted across her features. And the stepsister, standing just a little too close, her lips curled in an expression I couldn’t quite name.
Vultures.
That was all I saw. Vultures circling a broken body.
My gut screamed at me to stay, to shield Liliana from whatever storm had just swept into this room.
Her father’s voice cracked the air.
“Give us privacy.”
It wasn’t a request. It was a command.
He looked directly at me when he said it. Like I was nothing. Like I didn’t belong.
I met his stare without flinching. My jaw locked, my heart a drumbeat in my chest.
“No.”
His brows shot up.
I rose to my feet slowly, deliberately, my hand still clasped around Liliana’s.
“I’m her boyfriend,” I said, my voice steady, iron-clad. “Which makes me family too.”
I squeezed Liliana’s hand, anchoring us both.
“So I’m staying.”
The air between us thickened, heavy, dangerous. A silent war sparking to life.
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