Act 6, Scene 2: GRAVITY
The Fall That Changes Everything
Early morning.
Sarah, still reeling from the discovery of his locket, heads downstairs for breakfast.
No more avoidance.
She was determined to face everything now.
Her fingers instinctively reached for the locket under her sweater. It pulsed like a heartbeat against her chest.
Barefoot—only in socks—she quietly descended the stairs. Her oversized t-shirt hung loose. Tripods clung to her legs. Her face was puffy. Her eyes, heavy.
She hadn't eaten since last night.
Her headache had worsened. Her steps wavered. Every step felt heavier than the one before.
The mansion was too quiet.
Too eerily silent.
She glanced around. No one.
Only the sound of maids working quietly in the kitchen. The soft clinking of cutlery. The faint sizzling of oil.
And then—
That scent.
Black coffee.
His.
Unmistakably his.
Her heart thudded.
He was still here. He hadn't left for the office.
She didn't notice the freshly polished marble steps.
Her foot slipped.
She barely registered the shift. Her surroundings spun. The world flipped upside down in a flash.
She reached for the railing—missed.
Elbow, then hip—skin scraped violently against the marble as she crashed down.
Thud.
A jarring silence.
Then—
She sat crumpled at the base of the stairs, head buried in her knees, dazed from the shock and pain.
Her palm cupped her bleeding elbow. Blood trickled between her fingers.
She didn't even realize it.
Then—
"SARAH!"
A voice like shattered glass. Sharp. Panicked.
Andrew was there before she could blink.
Hands gripped her shoulders. His pupils wide—black rimmed with gold. "Where does it hurt?!"
She blinked at the blood on her palm.
When had that happened...?
He didn't wait.
In one swift motion, he lifted her.
Her back rested against his chest. His heartbeat thundered into her spine.
She wanted to protest—"I'm fine"—but the words dissolved.
Dizziness hit her like a wave.
She blinked—
—And they were in her room.
He knelt beside the bed, sleeves rolled, cotton pad in hand.
"This will sting," he said.
It did.
But the pain felt distant.
All she could focus on—
The way his knuckles whitened as he pressed the cotton.
The slight hitch in his breath when she flinched.
The tremble in his hand.
He was afraid.
He murmured while dabbing the wound gently—more gently than anyone had ever touched her:
"You should've told them to carpet the stairs."
That simple sentence—
Undid her.
Not the fall. Not the wound.
The weight of everything:
The locket.
The note.
"You are loved."
Her throat burned.
"Why?" she whispered.
Andrew froze.
She didn't even know what she was asking.
Why save me?
Why keep my photo?
Why make it impossible to hate you?
The more I ignore you…
The more I drift toward you.
The room tilted again.
Darkness clawed at her edges. Her head lolled forward. Her body weak.
Andrew caught her nape, held her close.
"Sarah," his voice cracked. "Look at me."
Panic bled into his tone. "Stay awake."
She fought the heaviness. Her fingers instinctively gripped his wrist cuff.
"Stay…" she whispered, her voice barely a breath.
A tear slipped down her cheek. Her lashes fluttered.
One beat.
Two.
She expected him to back away.
To retreat behind his usual walls.
Instead—
His thumb brushed gently against her pulse.
"I'm not going anywhere," he said softly.
"Always here. For you."
Cut to black.
To be continued…
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💔 Next Scene:
Storms outside. Silence inside.
And for the first time ever—Andrew Knight learns what it means to pray.
Stay tuned for Act 6, Scene 3: The Aftershock.