"I'll be right there." With the phone still plastered next to my ear, I grabbed my purse from the table.
"Wait. That won't be necessary, Ms. Sill." Her voice, raspy at first, now sounded like a cold block of ice.
I became a statue frozen in time. Only my breathing disturbed the silence.
"Mr. Allen requests that you no longer visit him or be allowed access anywhere near his room."
Did I hear her right?"Are you saying I'm…banned from visiting him?" My purse fell to the floor, and I put my back against the front door.
"I'm sorry." She didn't sound too sorry.
"Is he going to be okay?" I gripped the phone tighter in my hand and stared at the rusted fridge in the small kitchen. "Can you at least tell me that?Please?"
The nurse let out a sigh. "I cannot give you any information due to HIPAA laws. I'm sure you understand." She cleared her throat again.
"But Idon'tunderstand. I was just there. Does he need anything?" Not only had I lost Jason, but I was losing Ryan, too. Desperation and guilt fought a war inside my heart. I needed Ryan to be okay, or to at least communicate with me. If I could get Lucian to help him…
"Ma'am, I can't say."
"How do you even know what he wants?" Frustration began overriding the guilt. "It's not like he can speak for himself."
"Pen and paper. Plus, the hospital has tablets."
"Oh." I guess he could type. I should've thought about that. Still, I wanted to hear it from him, not some old, snotty nurse.
But what truly made me feel low? Knowing he didn't want to talk to me.How he must hate me.
"I-I understand. Will you tell him I'm sorry?"
"Yep." She sounded about as likely to relay my message as a cat would willingly take a cold bath.
"And—"
"Goodbye, Ms. Sill."
The line went silent, and just like that, I knew Ryan would never forgive me for what had happened to him.
Despair washed over me, and I crumpled to the floor, covering my face in my hands and letting out a sob.
He and I, along with Jason, had made this duplex a real home over the past few months. Finally free from the Church, we'd thrived on our new-found independence.
I wiped my eyes and stood. The canvas I'd been working on when Lucian had visited stood on its easel near the window. A terrible, burning rage boiled underneath my skin.
The image I'd been working on while blind now seemed to mock me.
"Ihateyou." I stalked toward the artwork. "I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I. Fucking. Hate. You." On the last word, I ripped the canvas from its wooden frame, then turned to the kitchen counter. Going straight for the knife block, I grabbed the handle of the chef blade.
I never want to see your face again.
A frenzied glee seemed to take over my body. I stabbed the tip of the knife into the material and began ripping. "You can go to Hell and stay there, you bastard."
Where Lucian's wings had once been, now only torn cloth rippled. The black paint, still wet, dripped onto the wooden floor.
Chapter 24
Anna Sill
Present Day
