Page 163 of Hidden Echoes

I will never love anyone like I loved him.

And he was never real.

CHAPTER 31

ZANE

PAST

I started calling her Mom in my head.

It wasn’t something I planned—it just happened.

Maybe because that’s how I imagined a mother should be. Loving. Someone who listened, someone who cared. And this mysterious woman… she listened. Every single day.

The best part of my day became sitting across from her, sharing a meal, telling her about things that didn’t matter to anyone else. She never mocked me, never dismissed me. Just smiled, always kindly.

Her eyes never held malice—only pain. A pain I wanted to take away, to heal somehow. But that was beyond me.

The woman sat across from me, her wrists still bound, though she didn’t seem to mind. There was a strange calmness about her—one that didn’t fit the situation.

“If my little girl saw you,” she mused, her voice light but tinged with something sad, something distant. “She would think you were an angel.”

I blinked, caught off guard. She never shared anything personal. She was always composed, guarded. But now, she let something slip.

I shifted, my shoulders tense. “Who are you?”

She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Nobody important, to be sincere.”

Lies.

Before I could press further, the door burst open. Heavy footsteps. A shadow loomed over us.

The air turned sharp, suffocating. My pulse pounded in my ears.

The door slammed open. Heavy footsteps. A presence that made the room feel smaller, like the walls were closing in.

The woman beside me tensed. The first real sign of fear I had ever seen in her.

Two men moved in fast, grabbing her by the arms, forcing her to her knees. She didn’t fight—she had to know it was useless.

Then he stepped forward.

I didn’t know his name. Not yet. But the way he carried himself—the quiet menace in his every movement—told me exactly what kind of man he was.

A predator.

He crouched in front of her, tilting her chin up with the barrel of his gun. His voice was smooth, almost amused.

“You ran far enough,” he murmured. “But you knew you’d never make it, didn’t you?”

She didn’t respond. Just stared at him with something between defiance and resignation.

Then her gaze flickered to me.

And something inside her shattered.

“Nico,” she choked out, her voice raw, desperate. “Please.”

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