I swallow thickly, my gaze darting between the three of them as my heart races in my chest. I press a hand to it, willing it to slow down, but it won’t, it can’t, and I…
I can’tbreathe.
“Ella,” Daniel soothes, his hand squeezing mine. “Calm down. Breathe for me.” He wraps his fingers around my jaw, my chin quivering in his grasp, and makes me face him. His face is so soft, so kind, and I want to pull away, but I can’t. He leans in and murmurs, “Iswhodead?”
I pause for one second, two, then jerk away, my teeth gnashing together. “Like you don’t know!”
Fuck, I’m losing it.
I don’t mean to spit the words, but I do. He jerks back like I’ve slapped him. “What are you talking about?”
No, now I’ve lost it.
I jolt to my feet and shove away from them, their prying eyes, their worried gazes. It’s all lies. All of it. How could they do this to me? Daniel and Evelyn, the only family I’ve remembered for the last ten-plus years, and Madeline, myrealfamily. My flesh and blood. My mother.
I run a hand through my fucked up curls, my fingers catching in knots. The weight of my jewelry is heavy against my throat, my ears. My fingers wrap around the necklace from Gage, and my eyes burn.
“You killed them,” I breathe, the words like acid on my tongue. I take another step back, my head shaking. I clench the diamonds. “You were there. You killed them.”
Gone.
They’re gone.
I think I might be sick, or pass out, or fuck, both.
My eyes fly around the room, looking, searching, for a place to vomit as bile continues to fill my mouth. My stomach swirls.
Dead.
I take another step back, and Madeline pushes to her feet as Robert takes a step toward me. Then Daniel is standing.
“Don’t come any closer!” I rasp, feeling like a trapped animal.
My bare foot catches on my long dress, and I stumble, my hand darting out into thin air as if to grab something, but all I see is blood. Dried, reddish-brown blood. Hunter’s blood.
Oh my God.
Hunter’s dead. He died in my arms. Oh my God.
The words repeat through my head again and again.
I’m seconds from puking all over Madeline’s floor when the door swings open, and Evelyn saunters through, a tray full of food and drinks in her hands. Her eyes meet mine, and they quickly shift from soft to worried.
“What happ—”
But it’s too late.
My heart pounds in my chest. I’m on the verge of losing control. The weight of the moment is crushing me, and I can’t breathe. The urge to vomit rises. I’m trembling uncontrollably, tears streaming down my face. I can’t stay here, not for another second.
In a blind panic, I bolt from Madeline’s office, my feet barely registering the sensation of the shiny industrial floors beneath me. I don’t know where I am, and I don’t know where to go, but I need a bathroom, a sink, or fuck, even a potted plant—anything to get away from this suffocating tension.
Away from the eyes. The sympathy. The questions.
The lies.
Frantic and disoriented, I slide on bare feet as I turn a corner and find myself in a massive concrete hallway. The dimly lit space stretches out before me, doors sporadically scattered along its length. The hall is bustling with people, all dressed in black, their ages and appearances varying widely. My body shakes as I take in the surreal scene.
This place feels like something out of a spy movie, reminiscent of the underground bunker from one of my favorite shows, “Agents of Shield.” It’s high-tech and impressive, withbewildering complexity that leaves me feeling both awed and utterly confused.
