Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 89232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
I’m trembling by the time he’s done. “What’s wrong with us, Ryan?” I point toward the office. “We’re talking as if Dad isn’t lying dead in there.”
“Nothing is wrong with you, Bella.” He wraps his arms around me and pulls me close. “Dad tried to protect you from this. It’s us. Me. The guilt is mine.”
No. If I lie, the guilt is just as much mine.
“You’ve got this.” He holds me at arm’s length. “You’re strong enough.”
I’m not.
“Dad made sacrifices for us you can’t begin to comprehend.” He squeezes my shoulders. “Don’t let it be for nothing.” Letting me go slowly, he takes his phone from his pocket. “I’m calling, all right?”
I open my mouth, but there’s only silence. The havoc is stuck inside.
“I have to call now, Bella. We’ve taken too long already. You can do this.”
It’s a lie. Everything is a lie. There’s only one truth here.
Dad is dead.
Oh my God.
Dad is dead.
The circles of light sway in my path. Their brightness isn’t enough to expel the darkness that steals over me. The floor gives way, and then I fall into a blissful night where monsters don’t exist.
Chapter
Six
Angelo
* * *
The news about Edwards’s suicide will soon be all over the news. I remain in South Africa to do damage control if necessary while my father flies back to Corsica. Damage control includes killing anyone who dares to reveal the truth, and the only people who know the truth are us and the Edwards family. Taking into consideration what’s at stake, I’m not worried about anyone running to the authorities. Still, I take nothing for granted.
I’ll hang around until after the funeral. That should give Ryan Edwards enough time to prepare for his sister’s departure. As her father didn’t apply for her passport like I instructed, I arranged for delivery through a third-party company. I paid them enough to get it in less than a week.
The wedding will no longer take place as planned. There won’t be a white dress and a cake or a big celebration with flowers in the garden. That turned into a funeral. We’ll get married at the marriage office with my father and close relatives as witnesses. There won’t be a honeymoon like my mother wanted, but I intend on taking everything from Sabella Edwards that’s been denied me save for that one night when she turned eighteen.
My phone rings when I arrive at the hotel in George after dropping my father off at the airport. It’s Roch. My gut tightens as I take the call.
“It’s Sabella,” he says.
I grip the phone hard. “What happened?”
“She collapsed. An ambulance took her to the hospital. Her brother is admitting her as we speak.”
Little makes my heart speed up these days, but this news has that organ pumping. “Where?”
“Here in George.”
“Send me the details.”
I disconnect the call and head straight back to town.
The parking lot is almost full when I arrive at the general hospital. It’s the evening visiting hour. I park in the first empty spot and run inside the building.
“Sabella Edwards,” I say as I rush up to the receptionist. “I’m her fiancé.”
She gives me a sympathetic smile before checking her computer screen. “Room one hundred eleven. First floor.”
In too much of a hurry to thank her, I push a few people loitering in the corridor out of my way and take the stairs. When I exit on the first floor, I spot Ryan in the hallway, talking to a doctor. I stroll toward a vending machine, keeping an eye on them as I pop in a few coins and get a coffee.
Ryan nods at something the doctor says. The doctor leaves, and Ryan enters the room. Sipping my coffee, I make my way to the nurses’ station on the floor.
The nurse on duty looks up when I stop in front of the desk. “Can I help you?”
I smile. “Just waiting for family.”
“There’s a visitor’s lounge down the hallway.”
“Thanks,” I say, raising my cup.
She ducks her head and resumes her work. I saunter toward the lounge, taking stock of the rooms as I go. The door of one of the rooms stands open. A young woman in a hospital uniform is pulling the sheets off the bed and dumping them in a laundry trolley. When she leaves with the trolley, I slip inside.
The night is moonless. I look at the dark, star-studded sky through the window. My breath makes vapor against the cold panes of the glass. Taking my phone from my pocket, I send a message to my father. He’ll only get it when he lands in Marseille, and he won’t be pleased that I’m extending my stay. I don’t explain about Sabella. It’s best that we have that conversation in person. It’s not going to be easy. My father will never be able to look at her and not want to kill her. As I said, he’ll need time.