EMBERS OF THE UNSPOKEN

Aurora’s Last Day

Aurora Kingsley sat alone in the dimly lit dining room of the Nicholas estate, watching the clock tick past another minute—another hour—of silence.

She thought after the family, Adrian Nicholas would change and start coming home to her.

He wasn’t.

Again.

Dinner had gone cold hours ago, but she was there, just sitted hopelessly, didn’t move from the table. She sat upright, hands folded in her lap, waiting the way she always did… hoping he’d walk through the door with even the smallest sign that she mattered.

Three years of marriage.

Three years of trying.

Three years of loving a man who never once loved her back, not the slightest show of affection.

She remembered his words to her on their wedding night.

" Don't even try...this will never work."

The staff had long retired to their quarters. The entire mansion lay quiet, except for the faint hum of the AC and the loneliness pressing against her chest.

He didn’t even call.

Of course he didn’t. Adrian never remembered to. Their marriage was a contract, a name-binding deal between two powerful families, not a union of hearts.

Aurora leaned back in her chair, exhaustion rolling over.

She had prayed for so little—just respect, attention, something real to hold onto. But Adrian lived as though she wasn’t truly part of his life, she could confident say she wasn't part of his world. She is only a shadow in his grand home.

Midnight crept into morning before she finally stood, picking up her untouched plate and placing it gently in the sink. Her chest tightened—not with anger, but with a deep, familiar sadness.

She didn’t sleep.

She only sat by the window and waited.

When dawn touched the sky, Aurora made her decision.

She would go find him.

She bathed, dressed in a soft white blouse and beige slacks, and took her keys. She paused at the front door, looking back at the quiet house—the house she had hoped to fill with warmth, laughter, and maybe one day… a child.

A hopeless dream.

Aurora stepped outside and drove toward Adrian’s company headquarters. The city was waking up, streets slowly filling, sunlight brushing against tall glass buildings.

But halfway there, she noticed the car.

A black sedan.

Windows tinted too dark.

Keeping its distance, yet never letting her out of sight.

At first, she tried to dismissed it—Adrian’s family was wealthy, after all. Maybe it was extra security she hadn't been told about.

But the car sped up when she did.

Slowed down when she did.

Turned when she turned.

Her heartbeat quickened.

This isn’t right, she just couldn't let go of her gut feeling that something was not right.

She pressed her foot on the accelerator.

The sedan sped up.

Panic crawled up her spine. Aurora’s breath hitched as she tried to lose them. But the sedan closed the distance effortlessly.

Too effortlessly.

“No, no, no—please—” she whispered, tears stinging her eyes.

She took a sharp turn onto a narrower road toward the outskirts of the city—a mistake she realized too late. The road was empty. Too empty.

The sedan rammed her.

Her car jolted violently, skidding off the road.

Another hit.

Another.

Her scream drowned in the roar of metal and wheels spinning out of control. The car broke through the guardrail and tumbled down a slope—spinning, crashing, rolling into the thick bushes below.

Then silence.

Aurora was slumped against the steering wheel, blood trickling down her forehead. Her vision blurred, the world fading in and out. She blinked hard, trying to keep consciousness, trying to move—but her body was too heavy.

Footsteps crunched on the gravel above.

Steady.

Purposeful.

A figure descended the slope—dark clothes, gloved hands, face hidden by the morning light behind him.

He walked straight to her shattered window and crouched.

Aurora blinked weakly, trying to speak. “Help… please…”

He didn’t move. Didn’t react.

He only pulled out a gun.

Her eyes widened, fear flooding every weakened bone in her body.

“Wh… why…” she whispered.

No answer.

Two shots cracked through the quiet morning.

Pain.

Cold.

Then nothing.

The man stepped back up the hill, disappearing into the rising sunlight as Aurora’s body grew still.

Hours later, she would open her eyes again—

not to life,

but to a silver-lit room between worlds.

And her path collide with that of Mira Daniel’s