He pushes to his elbow, looking down at me, and I roll to my back, looking up, hit by the intensity his voice was hiding. Not the corny Konnor I know andlike a lot. Something underneath, something willing to burn cities to the ground. “And I blamed myself for your death. I let your hand slip from mine. I didn’t crawl up beside your dead body and hold you. That’s what I dreamt about. Joining you in your grave.”
Oh, God.I blink tears away. “We both carried this guilt. You… drink. And I—”God…“Let my brother keep me locked away, locked in my room and from the world. It’s what I…”Deserved.“What I thought I…”
His jaw clenches.
My eyes drop. “People did blame me for what happened to you. You know that? After we escaped—my father found me. I tried to scream, but he knocked me out. The police arrested him. They found me locked in his wardrobe. I spent the night in the same hospital you were in. A man came into the hospital. He smothered me with a pillow. I was only eight. I was legally dead for two minutes. Then they gave me a new identity and erased my past and told me to keep quiet and low. To be a ghost.”
The memory of that pillow, that man’s weight—the terror floods back. “Someone wanted me dead for what I did to you, Konnor. I was only eight.”
My body trembles violently. We never take our eyes off each other. His hand comes to my cheek. He sighs roughly; I closemy eyes, feeling his warmth. He is strength and heat and intensity all at once.
His exhale moves across my hair, slow and uneven, like he just made up his mind about something. “I see you,” he whispers.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
liz
She can hear peoplespeaking. She can’t see their faces, but she can tell they are concerned—the quiver in their voices, the deep tones, the intermittent words that reach her through her slumber. She is so exhausted. The girl could sleep for a year and still want more. This is the first time she has let herself be vulnerable, let herself just... finally... rest.
She feels safe. Safer than she has ever felt. He is here, somewhere in this same hospital. He is fine. She knows it.
Footsteps approach. The mattress sinks.
A warm hand finds hers.
“Oh, you’ve been through something big, haven’t you, little girl?” A woman sighs, and the girl likes that sound. “I want you to know that you’re safe now, and that you can wake up. I know you’re tired and hurting, but we need to know you’re okay. Please, little one. It’s time to wake up.”
The hand moves to her forehead. The girl shivers. She wants to keep sleeping, despite the pleading in the woman’s voice for her to wake up.
Why does she have to wake up? There are no more chores. No boy to look after. Can’t she just sleep?
She thinks back. They escaped. The police found him first—she watched from behind a tree as they grabbed him, as he panicked in their grasp.
Then nothing.
The next thing she remembers is the policeman lifting her from the cupboard floor. The way he held her—careful and warm. A blanket was pulled up over her. The noise of the hospital. Lights sliding past overhead.
That’s all of it.
Now she just wants to sleep next to the unfamiliar gentleness of this stranger.
“Okay, sweety, you sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up. You’re such a brave girl, do you know that? You’re safe now. You’re safe.” She pauses. She pauses for long enough that the girl almost peeks her eyes open, but then says, “I hid your unicorn under your pillow.”
My unicorn.
The mattress lifts. Footsteps recede. The girl swallows. She doesn’t usually mind being alone.She doesn’t open her eyes. Just lies there.
Then… footsteps. Faster. Heavier.
“Get it over with.”
A body beside her.
A pillow against her face.
Soft at first.
Then not.