She lied until the truth felt cruel.
As they wheeled me toward surgery, I caught Wyatt’s sleeve.
“Don’t believe anything she says.”
“I won’t.”
“She’ll make herself the victim.”
“Not this time.”
The operating room doors opened.
The last thing I saw was Wyatt standing beneath the fluorescent lights, covered in my blood and looking ready to burn the world down for me.
When I woke, dawn had begun to soften the sky outside my window.
My face was wrapped in bandages. Pain pulsed beneath them, heavy and deep.
For a few seconds, I didn’t remember where I was.
Then Wyatt leaned forward from the chair beside my bed.
“Hey.”
His voice cracked.
I tried to speak, but my mouth was dry.
He raised a cup of water and held the straw carefully.
“Slowly.”
“Did they fix it?”
“The surgery went well.”
“My eye?”
“The doctor still believes your vision will return.”
I let out a weak breath.
Wyatt brushed his fingers over the back of my hand.
“You were in surgery for almost four hours.”
“Police?”
His expression darkened.
“Your father has been charged with felony assault.”
“My mother?”
“Arrested for conspiracy and obstruction.”
“Melanie?”
He hesitated.
That hesitation told me everything.
“She ran.”
I closed my right eye.
“Of course she did.”
“They found her car at the airport.”
“Did she get on a plane?”
“No. Security footage shows her leaving in another vehicle.”
“Whose?”
“They’re still checking.”
I stared at the pale morning light.
“She planned an escape.”
“It looks that way.”
“No. She planned everything.”
