The Girl They Buried Came Back a Queen
Chapter 6
###6
But the next moment, their eyes shifted—guilt creeping in like a shadow.
“Delilah was in the accident last time… she still has nightmares,” my father said softly. “Let’s save her first. Once she’s safe, we’ll come back for you.”
I watched them, stunned.
No one met my eyes as they pried Delilah out of the car. They moved quickly, hands trembling—yet not from fear for me. Just for her.
I should’ve stopped hoping by now. But in that moment, my heart shattered anew.
They carried her away without hesitation. No backward glance.
“I was so scared! I thought I’d die and never see Mom or Dad again,” Delilah sobbed into my mother’s shoulder.
Daniel stroked her hair gently, his voice tender. My parents and brother surrounded her, all comfort and warmth.
No one remembered I was still inside.
Gasoline dripped faster now. The acrid scent filled my lungs. Fire flickered at the edge of my vision.
Desperately, I fought with the seatbelt, forcing myself through the window. Shards of glass sliced into my arms, but I kept crawling. Then—
Boom.
A wave of heat knocked me flat, searing my skin. Everything went dark.
---
When I opened my eyes again, a white ceiling greeted me.
My throat burned. Pain radiated from every limb. I was alone.
No one was sitting by my side.
Two young nurses passed by the door.
“Miss Wren is so lucky,” one said. “Barely scratched, and her family booked her a whole floor! The best specialists, top-tier care…”
“Her fiancé stayed all night,” the other added. “So handsome. So devoted. I’d trade places with her in a heartbeat.”
Their voices faded.
I lay there, heart aching. Then—footsteps.
“Ava, you’re awake.”
Daniel entered with a forced smile and helped me sit up. “Still hurting? Hungry? Want water?”
Concern laced with guilt.
I almost laughed.
You caused this. You all did. Who are you pretending for?
I forced a smile. “You look awful. Get some sleep.”
He hesitated, then lay down beside me and quickly drifted off.
His phone was right there. I picked it up. The lock screen lit up—a photo of him and Delilah. She was beaming in his arms.
I opened the album.
Thousands of pictures. All of her.
One video played automatically—her birthday. Daniel carried a cake he’d baked himself, smudging frosting on her cheek. Her brother gifted her a dazzling dress.
She giggled, hugging them both. The perfect little princess.
And me? I share her birthday.
But that day, I was humiliated in prison.
We met in college. He promised forever. The photos of our life? Deleted. Trashed. Gone.
Tears blurred my vision.
I tapped into a group chat by accident—him, my brother, and Delilah.
My blood froze.
A kidney donation agreement.
Recipient: My brother.
Donor: Delilah.
I touched the scar on my waist. My breath caught.
My brother’s message echoed:
“Back then, Delilah risked her life to save me. One day, you must risk your life to protect our princess in return.”
Risked her life?
Then what about me?
The anesthesia wearing off mid-surgery. The scalpel carving me open. The pain that never fully left.
The screen slipped from my hand. My fingers curled over my eyes, tears spilling silently.
The phone rang.
“Ava,” said Director Jake, “I’ve booked the plane tickets. We leave in four days.”
A flicker of joy broke through.
“Thank you, Director Jake,” I said quietly.
Before I could hang up, a hand seized mine.
Daniel was awake.
His grip tightened. His eyes were no longer gentle.
“Plane tickets?” he asked coldly. “What plane tickets?”
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