Navy Lies

NAVY LIES MONICA ARYA CONTENTS Dedication Author’s Note Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Chapter 40 Chapter 41 Chapter 42 Chapter 43 Chapter 44 Chapter 45 Chapter 46 Chapter 47 Chapter 48 Chapter 49 Chapter 50 Chapter 51 Chapter 52 Chapter 53 Chapter 54 Author’s Note about Navy Lies Also by Monica Arya About the Author Acknowledgments DEDICATION To Blue. I love you to the moon and back. You’re the reason the stars shine. You will always have a piece of my heart. To those who have let their flaws and doubts consume their self-worth, I hope you’ll remember that even with thorns, a rose is still one of the most favored flowers. May you always embrace your flaws and find ways to convert them into powerful strengths. This is our now. AUTHOR’S NOTE Please take into consideration this novel may not be suitable for everyone and for detailed content warnings, please visit: www.monicaarya.com 1 FOURTEEN YEARS AGO Golden embers of the expanding flames prick at my skin, perspiration forming against my hairline, and the air in my lungs seem to be dissipating by the minute. I can’t breathe. I’m obstructing on the copious fog that has my mouth dry and my eyes burning. My hands are smeared with a crimson substance, and my shallow breaths are barring the remnants of life I’m scarcely clinging to. Looking down, the light wood floor is covered with blood and the short, once white gown I have on is drenched. My entire body feels feeble from what it endured a mere three hours ago. Closing my eyes, I know I’m about to die. I know I won’t be able to hold on any longer. The tiny cot on the opposite side is already in flames, and I scurry farther into the corner with the little strength I have. Clutching the small teddy bear, I let it soak up the tears that trickle out. I whimper as I look down at my wrists, studying the deep grooves in my skin. Flicking my eyes to the corner, I stare at the chains on the ground. Today is the first day I haven’t had them on… yet I’ve never felt more trapped. I’ll just go to sleep, I think to myself as the crackling grows closer and the heat begins to consume any solutions in my mind. However, just as I’m about to close my eyes, I hear her. The soft whimper from her perfect pink lips echoes louder than any of my racing thoughts or the way the fire is growing fiercer by the minute. I have to live. I have to survive. She needs me. There aren’t going to be monsters under her bed; the only monsters she should fear are the ones that will be tucking her in. I have to save her. After all, she’s mine. Only mine. * * * Present Day “Navy Mian?” a soft voice called out as I signed the bottom of the hefty stack of medical documents. Lifting my purse, I smooth my sapphire-blue dress out and my heels click against the tiles as I move to stand. “Hi, Ms. Mian. How are you doing today?” the friendly nurse asked me as she stretched her hand out for the clipboard I didn’t realize I was clutching. “Well, I suppose I’m not doing all that great if I’m here.” I try to joke, but it seems the nurse doesn’t find humor in it. She offered a tight smile and nodded as we turned into a well-designed office. “Dr. Sterling had to take a quick phone call, but will be right in. You can go ahead and take a seat.” “Thank you.” I wait until she shuts the door behind her before I look around the space. The walls are a deep emerald-green, and the wall-to-wall bookshelves are lined with medical textbooks and non-fiction literature. Insignificant, yet strategic, decorative pieces are carefully placed and on the opposing wall, there are four framed diplomas. I sink into the golden-mustard velvet chaise across from the large mahogany desk. Lacing my fingers together, I’m tempted to lift the brass picture frame that is facing away from me, though I’m unsure I’ll be able to keep myself composed for this fifty-minute session if I see the image. Tapping my nails anxiously against the journal in my hand, I decide I’ll just take a peek. Holding my breath, I wince as the heavy frame scratches against the wood as I turn it. Disappointment forms inside me as I stared at her, yet I couldn’t help but absorb everything the picture told me. She’s shorter than me, thinner, with rusty brown hair and pale blue eyes. We couldn’t be more opposite. I look down at myself, feeling agitated at how tight the Spanx feel underneath my dress, knowing she probably doesn’t even own a pair. I’ve seen her countless times in person, except she’s never seen me—at least, not recently. I’ve watched her lather her endless beauty products into the hollows of her skin, hoping to bring life back to it. I’ve watched her run and check her watch multiple times, smiling as she hits her goals. I’ve watched her laugh and live happily behind the stunning stucco home that has a neatly trimmed lawn and luxury cars parked in the driveway. I’ve watched her. I’ve studied her. Memorized her. The door creaks, and I quickly place the frame down. His heavy footsteps grow closer, and my heart begins to race. Focusing on my breathing, I swallow the lingering saliva in my mouth.