I think I might be sick.
“Does anyone recognize this man?” Detective Carver asks.
No one speaks. But I feel my family’s eyes shift to me, one by one, and the detective notices.
“Miss?”
“I...” My voice comes out hoarse. I have to swallow twice before I can continue. “Yes. I know him. His name is Viktor Ilyin. He’s my ex-boyfriend.”
And stalker. And abuser. And apparently, would-be murderer.
“Do you have any idea why he’d do this?”
I stare at the tablet, at Viktor’s triumphant expression frozen on the screen. He knew exactly how to hurt me. He knew going after my family would destroy me in a way that coming after me directly never could.
“He’s been harassing me,” I say. “Since I broke up with him. He’s shown up at my job. My apartment. Last week, he broke into my place and tried to shoot me. There should be a police report.”
“What?” Mom’s voice cracks like a whip. “Hetried to shoot you?”
I can’t look at her. I can’t look at any of them.
“I’m sorry. I thought I could handle it. I never thought he’d go after you. He never threatened that. He only came after me.” The words tumble out, desperate and inadequate. “I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t know.”
My eyes find Harper’s face, and the devastation I see there makes me flinch.
Detective Carver holds out a card to me. “If you remember anything else that might be helpful, please get in touch.” He glances at the rest of my family. “We’ll look into this and keep you posted.”
The detectives go. The silence they leave behind is suffocating.
I lower my head as the tears start to fall.
A hand touches my back, and I jolt before realizing it’s Mom. She opens her mouth, closes it. Her chin trembles. For a terrible second, I think she’s going to walk away.
Then she pulls me into her arms.
“Don’t you blame yourself for this. Viktor is obviously unstable, and you never would have dated him if you’d known what he was. As for keeping secrets...” She pauses. “I’m not happy about that. But I’ll let Julian kick your butt for it when he wakes up.”
A sob tears out of me, and she just holds me, rubbing my back, letting me fall apart. I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve any of this kindness when my choices put Julian in a hospital bed.
It takes me a few minutes to pull myself together. When I finally lift my head, I realize we’re alone.
“Does Harper hate me?”
“Of course not, Sweetie.” Mom brushes the tears from my cheeks. “She’s devastated and scared, but none of us blame you for what someone else chose to do. You can’t blame yourself, either.”
“Maybe if I’d told you about Viktor being dangerous...”
“Would Julian have been able to outrun a car?”
I flinch.
“I don’t want to hear another word about guilt,” Mom says firmly. “Be glad your brother is alive, and have faith that he’ll pull through. He’s strong. Always has been.”
We walk back to the waiting room. Harper is standing by the window, arms crossed, her reflection ghostlike in the glass. She doesn’t turn when we come in.
I’ll talk to her later. Give her time.
I look to my left and stop short.
