Page 244 of Fame & Rhythm

Loretta lies motionless on the ground, three dark stains spreading across her chest.

I gasp.

Aston’s hand comes up instantly, turning me into him before I can look any longer. “Don’t,” he murmurs. “Don’t look, baby.” I press into him, burying my face against his chest.

“Let’s get you to the hospital,” Dad says.

I nod, the world still slightly tilted. “When did the police get here?” I ask, my voice distant even to my own ears.

“They arrived with us,” Mum explains as we start walking. “We called them the second we knew she had you. Aston came bursting into our room with blood pouring from his head, saying she’d taken you. We had no idea how long you’d been gone, and he passed out not long after. She hit him with a brick… bribed a security guard to get in.”

I turn to Aston, reaching up to touch his cheek gently. “Are you in pain?” I ask softly.

He gives me a small smile. “Nothing compared to what I felt when she had you, baby. Nothing comes close to that.” My chest aches at the sincerity in his voice.

“Where’s Ella?” I ask as we move toward the car.

“At home,” Mum replies. “I didn’t want both my girls in danger. We told Aston to stay too, but…” She glances at him.

“He didn’t listen,” I finish, smiling faintly.

I’m glad he didn’t.

“Thank you for bringing the police,” I add, then hesitate. “Is Loretta…” I can’t finish the sentence.

“I don’t think she’ll survive, sweetheart,” Mum says gently.

Something breaks loose inside me.

Tears spill over, but they don’t feel heavy.

They feel… light.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry,” Mum says, pulling me into her arms.

I shake my head, clinging to her. “No… I’m not. I am crying because I’m happy. She can’t hurt us anymore.”

Mum tightens her hold on me. “Never again, Annie. Never again.”

“Dee,” Dad says, more urgent now. “We need to get her to the hospital.”

Mum nods, pulling back. “Come on.”

I try to walk, but my knees give slightly, the ground shifting beneath me. Aston catches me before I can fall.

“Sorry… I’m okay,” I mumble.

He shakes his head, already bending down. “No, you’re not.” And before I can protest, he lifts me into his arms. I think about telling him I can walk, that I don’t need to be carried, but the moment I settle against him, something inside me quiets.

For the first time since all of this started, everything feels almost… normal.

So I don’t argue.

I just hold onto him and let him carry me to the car.

Not long later, I’m checked into the Oxfordshire hospital, lying in a bed feeling like absolute death. The doctor had to reset my thumb before putting it into a cast, and even with the pain relief, it was brutal. They’ve told me it’ll take time to heal, maybe longer than expected, and I’ll likely need physiotherapy to get full use of it again.

That broke me.