Chapter 1
Quinn
Thebrightlightsbuzzedunder the soft sound of “Let it Go” from Disney’sFrozen, playing on a small TV in the corner of my hospital room. My heart rate monitor steadily beeped while distant voices from the hall added yet another layer of noise; so much noise, so familiar yet horribly not.
I don’t know how long I sat with one hand on the thick dressing covering my head. It could have been seconds, hours, or days.
Doctor Oz had saved my life and freed me of my delusions, but instead of feeling better, my heart broke.
My hair. Oh, fuck me. I’d loved my sparkling locks. I’d loved a lot more than that… I closed my eyes. Tears streamed out of the sides once more. It hadn’t been real. None of it. Not Cayden and his calming touch, not Rowan’s protective arms, not even the drama with XanRa.
I had magic… except I didn’t.
‘Breathe,’ Ezra’s voice said in my head. ‘Stay with me.’
I forced my hand away from my head and scrubbed my eyes, willing the tears to stop. I wasn’t sick anymore. Doctor Oz cut Miss Q out, and I could live a normal life doing everything I had always wanted. This was good.
A hole opened in my chest, and what little energy I had drained out of me. It didn’t feel good. My old life had been so empty.
For months, I’d lived in a world of magic. I had friends who loved me for who I was, and who needed me as much as I needed them. I hadn’t existed to stay out of people's way, desperately trying to get better. I’d done what made me happy. And despite everything, all the drama, all my failings, I’d loved it. My memories contained frustration and doubt, but not a single one bordered on the despair engulfing me right now.
“Ahem,” a man cleared his voice.
I lifted my hands from my eyes and looked up to find Xan looking down at me. No, not Xan. This man had a similar build and blue eyes, but his were darker. The inky blue seemed so pure, it reminded me of bad contacts. The color pulled at my memory, but I couldn’t place it. Pitch-black hair curled at the top of his head and didn’t match his sharp, clean-shaven jaw. A white doctor's coat covered slacks and a light blue button-down. He held a paper chart in his hands.
“Quinn. I’m here to give you a psych evaluation,” the man said. “Do you mind if I sit?”
I shook my head.
He vanished behind a curtain, only to return with a rolling chair in tow.
“My name is Alex,” he said. “How are you doing?”
I blinked at him. His name. He looked so much like Xan, short for Alexander—the Architect. The genius I’d dreamed up, villainized, then befriended, before finding out he and his lover liked me as more than friends. Instead of jumping into my fantasy sex dream, I pulled back. Because I didn’t trust anything, I didn’t want to be a problem, and because when things were too good to be true, someone was selling something.
A tear dripped down my cheek. All that fucking drama, and they weren’t even real. A crazy laugh tried to bubble out of my chest, but I squashed it down.
Alex cleared his throat again.
I rubbed the tear off my cheek and controlled myself. “I’m sorry. What did you ask?”
“I asked how you’re doing.” He opened a notebook and clicked the end of a pen.
“Where’s my therapist?” I asked. “You’re not, Rachel.”
“Rachel’s a private practitioner,” Alex explained. “I work for the hospital.”
I took a deep breath. “Why hasn’t my dad come to see me?”
“We need to make sure you’re emotionally stable enough for visitors.” Alex pursed his lips, his gaze boring into me. “So, how are you doing, Quinn?”
The beeping of my heart rate monitor increased, and I clasped my hands together. He wasn’t here to see if I was better. He was here to see if Doctor Oz had been successful, assess the results, and report any liability to my insurance. This wasn’t my first lap around the pool. If I didn’t say the right things, they could lock me away.
I physically sank into the bed as my emotions became too heavy to hold.
‘Breathe, I’m here. Just stay strong.’Ezra’s voice sounded in my head again.
A tear prickled my cheek. Ezra wasn’t real. None of them were.
