“Too many hospitals,” I rasp, then cough weakly. I don’t even have the energy for that. “Tired of them. Know how it ends.”
A hand hesitantly brushes my forehead, the touch light.
“She’s burning up,” says the deep voice.
More talking. Is someone crying? The house mother?
Consciousness fades. My mind untethers and floats away.
***
It must be later because the sky is dark now. Chill air brushes my bare legs. I’m wearing my nightgown, so why am I outside? Am I in the clearing? Don’t I have a test tomorrow? Panic thumps in my chest, and I kick my feet, flail my elbows, smacking into something hard and warm. It grunts and loosens its hold.
“Stop it,” says a voice right by my ear. “I’m going to drop you if you keep that up.” He sounds annoyed, a tone I’ve heard before. Lots of times.
Carrson?
Pieces come to me. The stars over my head. The sensation of arms around my shoulders and under my legs. A jostling, like I’m being carried.
“I’m going to throw up,” I warn him.
“You better not,” he shoots back.
Yep. That’s him.
“Put me down.” I bat at his arm.
The ground is wet under my bare feet. With effort, I crack my eyes open. Water droplets delicately balance on leaves, and there are puddles on the sidewalk. It must have rained. We’re outside of a big white house with a gray roof and dormer windows. I should recognize it. I’ve seen it before.
I turn my head and vomit into a bush.
Carrson holds my hair, and I’m pretty sure I hear him gag.
“This is the throw-up bush,” I tell him groggily.
“Gross,” he mutters from behind me, and I smile faintly, picturing the way his lip curls in disgust.
“I saw someone else puke here once,” I add, because that feels important.
My legs give out, and the ground rushes up to meet me. I brace for impact, but he catches me. Sweeps me up into his arms.
“You don’t like to be touched,” I say as I rest my head on his chest. His heart beats, a soothing sound. “That’s what you said,” I mumble. “Were you lying?”
“No.” We’re going upstairs now. He hitches me a little higher. “I was telling the truth.” There’s the click of a door opening. “I hate it,” he whispers into my hair, his arms tightening around me. Still, he doesn’t let me go.
A few more steps. Then I’m falling, no sinking, into something so soft I wonder if I’ve died.
I have one last thought before I pass out and it’s a happy one.
At least I’ll get to see Remi again.
***
Carrson Ashford is trying to murder me. More specifically, he’s trying to drown me.
I thrash in his arms as water pours down my face and into my mouth, choking me. It’s everywhere, cold, relentless, dragging a cough from my chest. I sputter and shove at him, trying to twist free, but his grip onlytightens.
“Calm down,” he snaps, his voice loud over the pounding spray. “I have to break your fever. It’s the only way.”
