Another face pushes its way into my mind, and I can’t stop the train of thought. Images pop into my head without my control.
How angry Phil was when that reporter passed us, how horrified he looked when he realized he had lost control of the car.
The crashing and crunching, the shattering glass, the impact that still vibrates in my bones. The blood, all the blood. And Phil, who just didn’t move anymore. Who sat there, so pale. And whose eyes never opened again.
All because of that damn reporter.
Again, a tiny flame of unbridled rage slips through the wall, dark and heavy, and my hands clench into the bedspread.
That bastard will pay for this.
For weeks, Phil had been harassed—by the same guy, he had already figured that out. But that night, this guy went too far. Proving it won’t be easy, though.
The photos he took through the window just before the crash can’t be used, that bastard knows it. Because then he’d be connected to the accident. He can’t be that stupid.
But I’ll find him.
I gave my statement to the police. They came to my house two days after the accident. If only I could remember the damn license plate. Something concrete that the officers could use. But no, I don’t even remember the make. Only that it was blue.
My own inability has haunted me every day since. And the sympathetic look on the officer’s face. Judging by his reaction, it’ll all just fizzle out. There’s simply not enough evidence.
But I won’t give up until I’ve found this guy.
My mattress sinks, and a familiar scent of orchids and vanilla fills my nose, making my heart clench. It clenches so hard. When I turn my head and look into the desperate, tear-streaked eyes of my best friend, the fog I’ve held up over the last few days slowly starts to clear.
Phil is her brother. Or was.
The protective numbness of the past week vanishes, leaving me completely vulnerable.
“Oh, Lia… I… Nic isn’t answering… I can’t…” Her voice sounds so broken, and it stabs something deep inside me. I open my arms, and Lizzy practically throws herself into my embrace. My whole body aches, and I flinch briefly, but I don’t say anything, clenching my teeth tightly.
Together, we sink into my pillow, and finally, finally, the floodgates open. The tears I’ve held back for so long begin to flow uncontrollably down my cheeks.
Lizzy’s delicate body trembles as she, too, starts to cry silently on my shoulder, and we don’t need words. Not now. Not here.
The grief and sense of injustice threaten to suffocate me, but right now, Lizzy is more important. She lost her big brother, her anchor, and her desperate sobs only fuel my anger even more. At the reporter. At Nicolas. Who apparently can’t even bother to look after his little sister right now.
“I’m sorry, so sorry,” I whisper into her hair, and her body shakes even harder. Her sobs dig deep into my heart, tearing the wound open even wider, but I’ll stay strong. This wonderful woman doesn’t deserve this. And Phil would want it that way.
“He… you… areyouokay? God, I’m such a terrible friend.” Horrified, she pulls back, looking at me with her big gray eyes—eyes so much like Philipp’s. They’re filled with a storm of emotions that threaten to pull me under.
My gaze softens, even though Lizzy’s sorrow is mirrored in it.
“You’re the best friend anyone could wish for, Elisabeth of Harlington. I’m fine. I’m here. I’m…” My voice falters as an uncontrollable sob escapes my lips.
It’s too much, it’s all too much, and my wall collapses. Just crumbles, and I break down with her again.
“He… God, Lizzy, he… I couldn’t help him. I couldn’t…” The truth of those words presses down on me, stealing my breath, coiling around my neck like a constricting snake.
I couldn’t help Phil.
Although I have received training as a paramedic, in that moment, I couldn’t help him.
Now Lizzy wraps her arms around my trembling body, holding me tight.
“You were trapped, Lia. How could you have helped him? It’s not your fault. Not at all, do you hear me? Phil would tear your head off if he could hear you saying that,” she murmurs into my hair, and my body begins to shake even more. Every muscle aches unbearably, and I just keep falling further and further, with no safety net.
Philipp was my best friend. My rock, my support. My mind and heart refuse to accept the brutal reality.
