Before anyone could do anything—not his bodyguards, not his stupid smug asshole personal assistant, not the cops at his back, and not the new wife at his side that had likely been a part of the killing of his wife and child—I shot him square in the face.
His head exploded like a watermelon dropped unceremoniously to the ground.
The crowd screamed.
Cameras clicked.
And my world changed.
For the fucking better.
Prologue II
Don’t kiss me if you’re afraid of thunder. My life is an emotional storm.
—Contance’s secret thoughts
Constance
Wendy smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes anymore.
My heart literally ached as I pulled the covers up to her chin and swept the hair back from her face. “I love you lotsa.”
“I love you lotsa and lotsa,” she replied sleepily.
And, even though it wasn’t nap time, and she’d gotten up for the day only two and a half hours ago, she was headed right back to sleep.
She’d take several of these naps a day, and still not feel any relief from her exhaustion.
That was just how her life was now.
One moment, we’d gone from being super happy and carefree, ruling the kindergarten halls and taking selfies in the mirror with zero cares in the world.
Then everything changed.
One day, she’d woken up, spent the day with her Aunt Essie in the garden while I’d worked at the Raptor and Wildlife Rehab Center and gradually deteriorated. By the end of the day everything that was my little Wendy was gone.
In her place was a shell of a girl.
We’d gone to the hospital immediately, and I’d found out a few things that day about my special little girl.
One, she had a rare genetic disorder called beta thalassemia intermedia that resulted in slower production of beta-globin chain production. Thankfully, in Wendy’s case, she wasn’t making zero. Just a lot lower than was typically normal for a healthy individual.
So not as bad as it could be, but still very bad.
She required regular blood transfusions every three to four months.
Which led to the second problem related to Wendy’s disease.
Wendy had Rh-null blood, otherwise known as ‘golden blood.’ A complete lack of antigen in the blood.
It was the rarest blood type in the world, and there were less than fifty people who had it.
Even worse, there was a desperate need for it and my girl needed regular transfusions of it.
Which was just not possible.
We were able to get some, but not what she needed.
