Page 140 of No Greater Oblivion

Karina blinks several times. Unable to make sense of what’s going on, she grips the arms of her wheelchair and tries to pull away.

A pair of nurses help Brent into the nearest chair. His shirt is soaked with blood, eye swollen shut, and he must be bleeding from somewhere on his scalp because his hair is dark and damp. After a few strangled breaths he delves into a coughing fit.

Dahlia frees herself from my grasp and approaches Karina. “Come on, we’re going.”

“What do you mean we’re going?” Karina grabs onto the wheels and prevents the chair from being maneuvered. “What happened to Brent!”

Karina tries approaching her husband but Dahlia stops her. It’s then that Dr. Brosnan steps in. “Dahlia, stop⁠—”

“No! No.” She smacks the doctor’s hand away and then looks at Karina. “He did it on purpose.”

“What are you talking about!”

Karina once more tries moving her chair but this time Dahlia kneels in front of her, blocking her path.

“He told me. He…he slammed the car door. Kay,” she reaches out and places a gentle hand on her cousin’s cheek, “I’m so sorry. Diego was standing next to me when he confessed and⁠—”

“He didn’t.”

Her shoulders deflate. “Kay, I know this is really hard but I don’t think it’s safe for you to go home with him.”

“Dahlia.”

“He hurt you. And you can’t walk or defend yourself⁠—”

“He didn’t do this.”

“Kay—”

“I don’t believe you.”

The world around us falls quiet.

Lyss and Lettie exchange looks. Diego brushes off the security guard trying to hold him in place and leans closer to listen. As for me, I feel immobile.

It’s like watching a car crash in real time.

“Wh—” Dahlia clears her throat. “Karina…”

But the woman sitting in the wheelchair isn’t Karina. She lacks her warmth, her delight and exuberance. The woman in front of us is dead eyes in an empty shell.

“I said I don’t believe you. It isn’t true. Brent would never. It was a woman on a bicycle.”

Dahlia flinches. “You told me it was a man on a motorcycle.”

“No. I didn’t.” This time when Karina grabs the wheels, she’s able to move in a different direction. “I want you to leave.”

It takes Dahlia a few seconds to find her voice. “Have you lost your mind? I’m not leaving you here with him!”

“You mean my husband? The man your boyfriend’s savage brother nearly beat to death in a hospital emergency room?”

Her cold, sharp monotone makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

“Get out. I don’t want you here anymore.”

Each word hits Dahlia like a bullet. I catch her just before she falls.

Her breathing is short and rapid and she grabs onto my wrists where her nails dig into the sensitive flesh there. I think she’s trying to wake herself up from a nightmare but doesn’t realize who’s holding her.