“Ivy, did you want to die?”
If I admit it, they’ll put me on lockdown. But it’s true. I wasn’t planning on waking up this time. “I didn’t want to be here anymore.” I half-smile, gesturing around the room. “Obviously, it didn’t work.”
“That’s not funny,” he scolds. “Do you know what happened to his mother?” he asks matter-of-factly.
“I don’t but I have a feeling you’re about to tell me whether I want to know or not.”
He states, “She committed suicide when he was eleven years old.”
“He told me she left.”
“She did. She told him and Micah good night, swallowed some pills, went to sleep, and never woke up.” Anthony’s voice wavers for the first time since I’ve known him. “He blamed himself for not saving her. And he’s been trying to reckon with what he believes is his failure to prevent it. I see the same determination in him again. It’s the only reason I agreed to his absurd arrangement. He might’ve gone about it entirely the wrong way. But his intention was genuine.”
I attempt to grasp the news but can’t. “How can I ever forgive him? How do I look at him and not see my mother? My mom is dead too.”
“That is entirely understandable. Only time will tell if the two of you can get past this. You just have to give it a chance and not cut it short.” He places a hand over mind. “They’re going to send a psychiatrist in shortly. I insist that you be honest with them. Because I will not allow you to leave this hospital until you speak with a professional.”
“You’re an expert. Can I just talk to you?” I ask but he has his stern, I’m-not-playing-about-this expression. It’s what I’dimagine an adorning father would look like. “Have you spoken to my dad?”
“Yes. I’m unsure when he’ll visit, but he knows you’re in good hands.”
I let out a soft laugh that feels heavier than ever before. “That’s the first time I’ve heard you lie, Anthony. I get that you’re paid to be here, but please don’t do it again.”
He gives me a sympathetic half-smile. “Sure thing. But for the record, I’m not currently on the clock, Ms. Walker.”
“I swear if you don’t call me Ivy, I’m going to scream and that’s really painful at the moment.”
“We’ll discuss formalities later. Get some rest.”
86
IVY
Sacrifice if you dare. Meet at Old Belgrave Academy at midnight—Or beg for Mercy.
Not a fucking chance I’ll ever step foot in that godforsaken tomb again.
Tossing my phone on the bed, I sit on the edge as I groan, “I’m ready to go.”
Walking with crutches is not fun, particularly with broken ribs, but the doctor said I had to use them for a few weeks.
Anthony keeps reading his book. “They will be in momentarily with the discharge paperwork.”
It’s been hours since the doctor gave me the all clear to leave. I’m signed up for outpatient visits and plenty of other appointments including physical therapy. None of them sound appealing. But I’m ready to leave, and it’s not even been twenty-four hours.
A nurse walks in. “Ready to go? Your dad can head down to get the car if you are.”
I don’t correct her as Anthony stands and says, “I’ll be waiting out front.”
“Thanks,” I relay to him before he steps out of the room.
“Let’s get you out of here.” She inserts a syringe into the IV port and once it’s empty, she begins flushing the line.
“What did you give me? I thought you were just removing my IV?” I ask, already feeling a familiar drowsiness. “What are you doing?”
“I’m taking it out now. It’ll be over soon.”
I feel her remove the needle then apply pressure to the area. Everything fades as I drift off before I’m able to ask what will be over soon.
