I can’t breathe.
I’m on the floor, and Jared is holding me. Angelo is there, both of them talking.
Help me. I try to say it. But my mouth doesn’t work. The rushing sound grows louder.
Can they hear it?
Metal in my mouth. Heat on my face, down my side.
And it hurts.
Lia. My Lia.
Help me.
43
Jared
“Emmy.” I hold her against me, and she’s socold. “Emmy, it’s alright.”
Angelo grabs for his phone. “I will call for help.”
She stirs.
“No,” she whispers. “No police.”
She starts to struggle, and I shake my head at Angelo. “Okay. We won’t call anyone. Just take a minute.”
“I have to go.” She pushes weakly against my hold. “Let me go.”
“Emilia—,”
“Please.” A small, broken sob slips from her. “Let go of me. I can’t – don’t touch me.”
My arms drop immediately, and she scrambles away from me.
There’s no blood in her face, her scar standing out in stark contrast to her pale skin. Shivering, she pulls herself up using the door. “I’m – I’m okay. Sorry. I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.” Getting up, I take a step toward her.
She flinches. “Sorry.”
Jesus. I keep back, keep my voice low. “You don’t have to apologize. What’s going on, Em?”
“Nothing,” she chokes out. “I… I just felt faint. I’m okay now.”
She offers me the tiniest, shakiest smile. “I’m okay. It’s gone.”
We both know that’s far from fucking true.
I don’t know what to do. I hover behind her as Emilia backs up into the main store. She turns to look at the window, and she wavers again.
I slip my hand under her elbow, and she jerks away from me. She holds up her hands, backing away. “Sorry. Still a bit out of it.”
“Who is he? The man?”
She jerks as if I’ve hit her. “Nobody. Someone… someone I used to know.”
