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So much more.
Her expression is long past murderous as Cole takes a protective step. Half shielding me, but it doesn’t matter. He might as well be invisible; Lorna only has eyes for me.
“This is all your fault,” she screams hysterically. “You shouldn’t have come back. I got rid of you once and then again. The third time will be a breeze.”
My skin prickles in awareness. The room’s atmosphere drops about twenty degrees in a matter of seconds as she seethes, panting.
What does she mean she got rid of me not once but twice?
Lorna’s nearly foaming at the mouth as I take a hesitant step forward. I can feel Cole’s disapproval at my back, but I overlook it.
“What are you saying?” I ask slowly, cautiously. The sound more like a whisper, or maybe that’s only how I hear it. The ringing in my ears distorts everything else as my blood starts to thicken.
Not that any of it matters, the room is deathly still, while the noise in my head whooshes growing louder.
“What did you do?” someone asks but I honestly couldn’t tell you if it was Abram or Cole. Possibly both? Anything past the rushing inside is a dull comparison to everything else.
Lorna doesn’t say anything right away and my heart pounds faster with anticipation. The sneer on her face far too telling.
I want to swallow but it seems awkward to do anything besides the bare minimum. My head spins the more the sound grows. My stomach is a tight thicket of knots.
Screaming, my brain tells me to breathe, but I know if I tried, I’d most likely swallow my own tongue, so I don’t listen to that either.
Nothing else matters, my attention fixated on Lorna.
The longer she holds my concentration, the more my head has time to focus. Normally a good thing, not so much as of current. It’s then that I start to pick out the details.
Her mouth is twisted like I’m a bad smell, nose new and surgically enhanced, eyes thickly coated in a layer of mascara… those eyes…
The truth sitting here, ticking like a clock to a bomb.
Tick.
Nothing.
Tick.
Nothing.
Her mouth lifts, catching it at the same time I do. I’d say her smile turns more ugly, but it’d never been nice before. Permanent in its dirty expression anytime I was around.
I see the truth—had it the entire time—and never even knew it. Never took the time to put the pieces together. But why would I when I thought I already had them all?
Tick.
The seconds come quicker, moments faster. Rapid fire, it’s all hitting me. Everything, all of it as consuming as the truth.
Those icicle eyes, so like someone else’s. Ones I could’ve easily mistaken while I was half-comatose. Too much smoke in my lungs and brain by that point to know any different.
Tick.
The color, a shade of blue iciness so similar to Cole’s, you’d hardly notice any difference unless you really concentrated. Could focus wholly.
Tick.
The room is spinning. Everyone hanging on—or never mind, I’m the one who needs something to grab on to.
Tick.
