Gone Girl
Aaliyah
The cold air hit Aaliyah’s skin like a shock to her system, the rush of it tearing through the fabric of her gown as she sprinted across the manicured grounds of the estate. Her feet pounded against the gravel path, the sound a frantic rhythm that echoed in her ears, drowning out everything else. She didn’t look back. She couldn’t.
You have to keep running. The thought was as urgent as her heartbeat, as loud as the pounding of her feet on the ground. She had no plan, no destination, just an overwhelming need to get away from everything, from everyone who had kept her locked in a cage of their making. Aaliyah’s chest ached as she gasped for breath, the weight of her dress dragging behind her like chains, pulling her down, but she couldn’t slow down. She couldn’t stop. Not yet.
She had been trained for this. She had been taught that fear was a luxury she couldn’t afford. But tonight—tonight was different. Tonight, the fear was raw, visceral, and it wasn’t just fear of the unknown. It was fear of the life she had been shackled to, of the life she was now running from.
Ehsan. Her parents. The life they had planned for her. She could see their faces in her mind—her father’s stern expression, her mother’s calm, calculating gaze. All of them had watched her walk down that aisle like it was inevitable. Like it was all part of a script she had no say in. And now… now it was over. She couldn’t marry him. She couldn’t become the woman they wanted her to be.
She didn’t know where she was going, but the instinct was clear: run. Run as far as her legs would take her.
Aaliyah’s breath came in shallow gasps, the cool night air stinging her lungs, but she pushed through the pain. Her gown was heavy, like it was dragging her back toward the altar, toward everything she had been taught to accept. She could feel the weight of it, but it didn’t matter. Every step was a step away from the life she had been forced into.
The trees blurred around her as she moved, the high hedges lining the estate forming walls that seemed to close in. She could hear the distant sound of footsteps behind her—someone chasing her. Cruz. She didn’t need to look to know it was her. She could feel Cruz’s presence, that watchful, unyielding gaze tracking her every move, even from a distance. Aaliyah could sense the woman’s determination, her commitment to the mission.
But Aaliyah wasn’t part of that mission anymore. She had made her decision.
Aaliyah didn’t know how long she had been running. Minutes? Hours? Time had lost all meaning. She could feel the weight of her desperation creeping up on her, but she shoved it back. There was no turning back. Not now. Not after everything.
Her feet faltered for a moment, the sensation of the gown tripping her up, but she caught herself, pushing forward. The gate to the property loomed ahead, the towering iron bars appearing like the final barrier between her and freedom. It was a sight that should have comforted her, but all it did was fuel her panic.
Get to the gate. You can’t stop.
The guards were close now, their footsteps heavy behind her, but they weren’t quick enough. Aaliyah’s hands gripped the iron bars of the gate, the cold metal biting into her skin as she tried to push them open. It was locked.
The realization hit her like a punch to the gut.
No. She tugged harder, her hands shaking, her breath coming faster as she pulled at the gate with all her strength. Her heart pounded in her chest, but the gate wouldn’t budge. Her mind raced. She couldn’t stay here. She couldn’t be trapped.
“Please,” Aaliyah gasped, her voice breaking as she pulled again, her body straining against the metal. But the guards were closing in now.
She spun around, her gown flaring out around her, the train dragging against the ground. She looked toward the direction from which she had come. The estate, the ballroom, the guests—everything was behind her now.
And yet, in this moment, nothing felt like it belonged to her. The life she had fought so hard to escape now felt like a distant, suffocating memory.
A noise. Footsteps. Closer.
Aaliyah’s head snapped toward the sound, and there, just at the edge of the garden, she saw her. Cruz. Cruz’s silhouette was framed by the low lights of the courtyard, her sharp features impossible to miss, her form rigid and unyielding. She was closing in.
Aaliyah froze for a split second.
She should have known Cruz would follow her. Cruz always followed orders. But this wasn’t about orders anymore. It was about survival. It was about breaking free from the cage she had been placed in.
“Aaliyah,” Cruz’s voice rang out, low and commanding. Aaliyah could hear the tension in it, the authority. “Stop. You don’t have to do this.”
The words struck her harder than she expected. Cruz wasn’t just following the mission. There was something else in her tone, something that made Aaliyah’s chest tighten.
But no. Aaliyah shook her head, her pulse racing faster. She wasn’t stopping. Not now.
She was standing on the precipice of a decision that could change everything. The gate was locked, but the path beyond it was open. Aaliyah didn’t know where she would go, or how she would get there, but she was certain of one thing: she couldn’t stay.
Before she could second-guess herself, Aaliyah made a move.
Her hands, slick with sweat, gripped the edge of her gown and yanked it up, the fabric bunching in her hands as she turned away from Cruz and the approaching guards. She bolted into the shadows of the garden, her breath ragged, her heart hammering in her chest. The adrenaline burned through her, each step propelling her forward.
She heard Cruz call after her again, but this time, it didn’t stop her. She didn’t slow down. She couldn’t.
Her feet carried her toward the perimeter of the estate, past the tall hedges and the open fields that stretched beyond.
She didn’t know what was waiting for her out there. She didn’t know where the road would take her.
But in this moment, it didn’t matter.
Aaliyah was free.
Cruz
Cruz’s instincts kicked in the moment Aaliyah turned away from the altar, her feet breaking the rhythm of the ceremony. The crowd gasped in stunned silence, but Cruz didn’t need to hear their reactions. She had already seen the look in Aaliyah’s eyes—the subtle flicker of panic, of something deeper, something that had been building behind that composed exterior.
In the span of a heartbeat, Cruz was moving, her mind already racing through the possible outcomes. Aaliyah’s escape wasn’t just a slip-up; it was a decision—a moment of rebellion against the life that had been mapped out for her. Cruz had been trained to see these kinds of reactions, but this was different. There was something raw in Aaliyah’s flight that couldn’t be ignored.
As Aaliyah took off down the aisle, Cruz pushed through the guests with precision, her steps quick but measured. She didn’t call out at first, knowing the last thing Aaliyah needed was to feel cornered. She couldn’t afford to spook her; Aaliyah was already slipping from her grasp.
Stay calm. Stay focused. Cruz reminded herself, each step in sync with her breathing. She was a professional. This was a job. But deep down, Cruz couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted in Aaliyah’s actions. Something was changing.
She could feel the tension in the air as she approached the ballroom doors, her eyes scanning for the bride’s figure in the sea of confusion. Aaliyah was fast—faster than Cruz expected—but there was no doubt in her mind that she would catch up. The mission had to remain the priority. Aaliyah couldn’t just disappear.
“Aaliyah!” Cruz called, her voice sharp, cutting through the noise. But the bride didn’t stop. She didn’t even look back.
Cruz’s chest tightened, a ripple of concern slipping through the usual armor of professionalism she maintained. It was clear now that Aaliyah wasn’t running from the wedding. She was running from something much bigger. From the life that had been built around her.
Cruz was close now, nearly at the door, her gaze fixed on the retreating figure of Aaliyah, her movements erratic as she pushed past the guests toward the exit. There was no hesitation now. Cruz had to move quickly.
Without a second thought, she pushed the doors open, stepping into the cool evening air. The courtyard spread out before her—wide, open, the dark sky above framed by the lights of the estate.
Aaliyah was already halfway across the garden, her gown flowing behind her like a ghost, a pale streak in the darkness. Cruz’s eyes tracked her every move, her body instinctively following the path that Aaliyah was carving through the estate.
Stay close. Stay calm. Get her back inside. Cruz’s mind raced as she adjusted her position, ensuring that she was always between Aaliyah and the outside world. She couldn’t let her escape—at least, not without an explanation. The mission had been clear: ensure Aaliyah’s safety, make sure she married Ehsan. There was no room for deviation.
“Aaliyah, stop!” Cruz’s voice carried across the courtyard, but the bride didn’t flinch.
Cruz pushed forward, her every step calculated, the soft rustle of her tactical gear barely audible in the breeze. She was closing the distance now, but Aaliyah was fast. Her gown billowed out behind her, a cloud of white and silver that trailed like a wake, but it only seemed to slow her down slightly.
The gates. Cruz’s eyes locked onto the iron fence that marked the edge of the estate. She had to stop Aaliyah before she got there. Once Aaliyah reached the gate, she would be free. The perimeter was tight—guards were stationed, but it didn’t matter. If Aaliyah got through, it would be over.
“Aaliyah!” Cruz barked again, but this time, there was something different in her voice. This wasn’t just a command. It was frustration—confusion—a growing sense of something bigger unfolding. Aaliyah wasn’t just a target anymore. She wasn’t just a mission. Cruz felt the shift deep inside her as she pushed herself faster.
Aaliyah wasn’t listening. She was too far ahead now, her movements frantic, desperate. Cruz’s mind spun as she calculated her next move. She knew Aaliyah had no idea how dangerous this was. But Cruz also knew how this ended if she didn’t act fast.
The guards were still too far behind. The iron gate loomed ahead, and Cruz’s thoughts spiraled even further. She couldn’t let Aaliyah get to it. Not now.
Her breath came faster as she reached the edge of the garden, the gate just a few feet away, looming like an impenetrable barrier. Aaliyah was pulling at it, her delicate hands gripping the cold iron, her face twisted with a mix of panic and determination. Cruz’s heart skipped a beat. The gate was locked, but Aaliyah didn’t know that. She was fighting it, struggling with every ounce of her strength to break through.
“Aaliyah—stop!” Cruz’s voice was a command, but it wasn’t enough to break the fugue Aaliyah had fallen into. She was beyond hearing now, beyond reason.
Aaliyah yanked at the gate again, her arms shaking, but the metal wouldn’t budge. Cruz could see the strain on her face, the way her jaw clenched as she tried again, her movements more frantic with each failed attempt.
Cruz was close now. She could reach out, grab Aaliyah, drag her back inside. But the thought of forcing her back through that gate, into a life she no longer wanted, felt like a violation. Something inside Cruz churned at the idea.
She had a job to do. She had always had a job to do.
But this wasn’t the mission anymore. This was something else—something Cruz couldn’t quite put her finger on. A part of her wanted to step back, to give Aaliyah space. But another part—the soldier inside her—knew that she couldn’t let this end like this.
“Aaliyah,” Cruz said again, softer this time. There was a pause—just a beat—before Cruz took a step closer, her voice steadier than before. “Don’t do this.”
Aaliyah didn’t respond. She didn’t even acknowledge her presence. Cruz took another step forward, her hand outstretched, but just as she reached for her, Aaliyah spun away. Her gown flared out around her like an explosion of fabric as she turned on her heel and bolted into the shadows of the garden.
Cruz froze for just a moment. She was too late.
Aaliyah had gone.