Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 96065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
It was just a flinch, but I’d seen it.
The foster dad, Rick, was used to asserting dominance over everyone, including his wife. She’d been quick to want to feed me something to make me feel welcome. Her eagerness pissed Rick off. All he’d done was step in her direction, body tensed and full of anger, but she’d flinched in response.
I’d seen his type before.
An abuser.
Rather than waiting to be caught off guard by it, I went on the offense. It was a sucker punch to his kidney, but when I began wailing on his face with both fists, he got to see it up close and personal.
Now I’m going to the crazy home.
All the people here walking around are insane. You can see it in their dead eyes and hear it in their incoherent mumbles.
I wonder how long I’ll be here until they, too, kick me out.
Voices rouse me and I blink my eyes open. Dad stands at the end of my bed, arms crossed over his chest, staring intently at me. I’ve seen the worried look in his eyes before. He’s concerned for my well-being despite being in on what got me here in the first place.
I pin him with an accusatory stare. You did this to me. I’m here because of you.
Gently, he pats my foot over the blanket. “Gave us quite a scare there, Son. I thought I was going to lose two children in the same month.” Grief makes his eyes water, but he quickly blinks it away. “They say you’re not going to die. Looks like we’re finally out of the woods.”
There aren’t any windows or clocks, so I have no idea what time it is. I’m unable to orient myself so that I’m on an even mental playing field as my father.
I hear a chair creak. Then someone steps over to my bed. Theo watches me with a guilt-stricken expression. I’m reminded of the pictures of him kissing and touching Romy. My heart gallops in my chest. If I had the energy, I’d climb out of this bed and knock my fist through his teeth.
The machine makes a soft, rapid beeping sound. Seconds later, a nurse hurries into the room.
“Oops,” she says, flashing me a wide grin. “Looks like I let this stuff wear off. That won’t do.”
She uncaps a syringe and then depresses it into the IV line. I groan, trying to make my lips and tongue work, but nothing comes out. Warm darkness floods back in.
I wake slowly but am able to piece together that I’m still in the hospital. The overhead lights have been turned off and the only light source is coming from a small light behind my bed.
My family isn’t here, which is a good thing. I need to stay calm long enough to figure out how to get out of here. That won’t happen if I alert the nurse like last time.
I take stock of how I’m feeling.
Body still feels as though it’s boneless and I have no power to move it. I’m able to turn my head a little to the right and then to the left. That’s something. Next I try to focus on moving my hands. My fingers twitch but don’t obey my brain’s command.
While I wait to gain function in my body, I try to think about my sister. What does she look like now? Is she living a good life or tangled up with a monster?
I try to imagine what she looks like but come up blank.
Her face is a black hole in my memory.
For some reason, Emma’s face pops in my head. And not the live version of her. The blue, lifeless form that was not coming back from the dead no matter how much CPR was given.
She was so cold.
I barely knew the girl, but she was family.
I’d failed to protect her from Gareth and then she was dead.
My chest aches at the loss.
With her death, I’d been slightly relieved. I didn’t have definitive proof of what I’d thought Gareth was doing to her. It was more of a gut feeling. It was strange to be pleased that she’d never have to deal with him again.
Gareth was furious.
At himself. At me. At Dad. At Theo.
It was everyone’s fault for not keeping an eye on her.
He’d tried to erase the footage of chasing her down the hallway in nothing but his boxers. I watched it over and over, analyzing ever detail. The terror on Emma’s face. The sick, desperate obsession of my brother. A monster chasing his prey.
And then he actually thought he could just adopt another kid like the last one didn’t die because of him and his sickness.
But I saw that glimpse of him. I knew. Deep down, I knew.
I still couldn’t save Kaitlyn.
Despair claws at my chest. I want to curl up in this bed and sleep forever. Maybe then I won’t have to think about all the terrible shit in my life that gets off on haunting me.