“I thought-” I begin, “I thought you were calling it?”
The nurse’s face twists as confusion mixed with her empathy for the situation. “Called what? I was only here to replace her machine,” she gestures toward the hospital equipment. “We haven’t got our new machines in yet, and no one wants to step up and markthe bad equipment, so it's aguessing game.” She places her hand over her heart, “I am so sorry I scared you. Ms. Evelyn is just fine. Her body has been through a lot, and she will need a lot of rest, but she will be just fine.”
My gaze falls back to her as the nurse leaves the room. “I thought I lost you, Sugar.”
Chapter 26
Oliver
"The truth, once revealed, can eitherbreak us or set us free."
Flashback a few hours
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Niven stops me before I can chase after Emory, shouting at me. “I didn’t know Evelyn was still alive—you never mentioned her, Oliver.” I know now that was a bad idea, but I had my reasons. I listen as she continues. “And then, you send her here... with this!” She flings the letter at me—the one her son wrote years ago.
Her anger with me is valid. I knew there was a better way to do this, but I just didn’t have the time. Bending down, I pick up the paper that is now draped over my shoe. “If I had told you, would you have been able to care for her properly?” I walk toward her, as she just stands there, mulling over the thoughts I have activated in her brain.She knows that if she had been aware that her granddaughter was going to be brought to her door, she would have panicked.
It’s been years since her son passed, and he was her only child, not to mention she never got to meet the twins. He did everything in his power to keep them away from the cursed family history that haunted their bloodline. They were never in danger so long as they stayed away—theynever cared about the women. Girls were lineage killers.
I make it outside just as Emory takes off in pursuit of her sister.Now is the time.I wait, allowing her to get a little closer, and just before they could touch, I am at her side. My arms wrap around her, and I rest my head against her back, as she kicks and thrashes. She places her heels on my thigh, digging them in deep as she tries to push off and propel herself forward.
Fine little bird, you want to hurt?
So be it.
I loosen my hold slightly, only enough so that her hand can float over Evelyn’s, and just as I predicted, she lets it fall. I watch as it passes through her sisters, then I pull her in tight and start my backward descent to the mansion. The pain in her voice as she shouts after her sister is… a form of pain I never want her to feel after today.
“No, Oliver, what is happening to me? Where did she go?” The doors slam behind me as I settle her on the ground. She delivers a swift slap across my face, and I have never been more thankful for the cloth I am forced to wear.
“Oh my,” she clasps her hands over her face, in shock at her actions, “I am so sorry.”
I shake my head in response, “No, my dove. You have nothing to be sorry for.” I reach up to comb her hair back, but she backs away from me. “It is I who should be sorry.” The change from a ‘sad’ hurt to a ‘betrayed’ hurt in her expression cuts deeper than any cut I’ve ever endured.
“What do you mean, Oliver?” Gravity takes hold of her hands as they fall to her side. “Why would you need to be sorry?”
“Emory, I am going to need you to listen to me.” My hands jump out in front of me, as I watch her eyes—an intimidation tactic, used when helping to get the party on edge to calm down.
“Why should I listen if you have been-” Tears well in her eyes. “If you have been lying and hiding stuff from me?” She straightens her back and pushes her chest out—confidently and composed. She speaks firmly, “Why. Are. You. Sorry?”
“May we at least find a place to sit?” I cross my hands in front of me, one over the other, in response to her body language. “We don’t have much time.”
She nods, and we make our way to the nook, passing Niven in the library cafe along the way. She looks at me, her eyes red and misty. Emory and I take opposite seats in the nook, while flashes of our moments here try to distract me from the situation at hand—I shake them off. “Ok, here we go.”
You have been in limbo, and the reason your nightmares have been getting more vivid is that… you are dying.
Her face contorts in disbelief, “What do you mean, I am dying? I am right here.” She waves her hand in my face as though I can’t see her.
The reason you can stand here the way you are is because your soul is in limbo, your body is in the hospital, and you have been in a coma for the better part of two weeks.
Your soul has unfinished business, and the night you headed on this journey was the night your mother received that call—it was about you, not your sister.
The hospital called to tell her that you were brain-dead, and there was nothing they could do, and since you felt your sister was in trouble, your soul left your body to save her. When that happened, it caused the machines to spike, giving the doctors a sense of false hope.
“Then,” She leans back against her chair, looking around, uncertain of what she is hearing, “How is it that I just saw her?”
Remember in the dungeon, during our game, when you asked questions?
She nods.
