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“She’ll be fine,” I murmur quietly. “Just a concussion.”
Eilish visibly exhales in relief, shuddering as Callie hugs her around the shoulders tightly.
I turn to address the group. “Now, we all need to talk about what—”
“Cillian…”
“She’s going to be okay, Eilish.”
“Which is wonderful, but I don’t know ifsheis.”
She swings her face around, and I follow her gaze to where my eyes land on Una, sitting alone on one of the couches.
Looking like a ghost.
Shit.
“She’s…really not responding to…anything,” Eilish says quietly.
She’s right. Una looks like she’s somewhere else. Like her light is dimmed inside. Her hands clench on her lap, fingers picking at her cuticles as she stares blankly at the wall, her cheeks white. Her face and the black dress are streaked with soot and the disturbing blood-colored flecks of frosting from the cake. Her hair is spattered with cake crumbs, and hangs limply down the sides of her pale face.
“Stay here.”
I leave Eilish with Callie. Una jumps when I touch her shoulder, her vacant eyes ripping from the wall to focus on me.
“It was him.”
My jaw clenches as I squat down in front of her. I take her hands in one of mine, stopping her from ripping her cuticles apart any further. The other raises to cup her cold face.
“There’s no such thing as ghosts, Una. Least of all ones capable of rigging bombs and hiding recording devices in wedding cakes.”
“Thatvoice…” she shudders, a haunted look rearing up in her eyes. “Thatfucking voice…”
“That was a recording,” I growl. “From months ago, before his death, when someone was idiotic enough to think it would be a good idea to do a live interview from ADX Florence with your father. You must have heard about it. He killed a guard, put the reporter in a wheelchair, and grabbed the camera to start barking threats at our family.”
She swallows, her face somehow even colder.
“But then hedied,” I hiss quietly. “He’sgone, Una.”
And when I find out who the fuck thought it was amusing or even remotely cute to fuck with my family like that, I’m going tobathein their fucking screams.
I clear my throat, standing and turning to address the room. “Neve’s got a small concussion, but she’s going to be okay.”
Visible relief floods the faces of Castle, Kratos, and Dimitra, joining Eilish and Callie.
Hades’ face, however, only briefly registers that emotion before it turns stormy and dark.
“Yeah, so,” he growls. “Are we going to discuss the fucking elephant in the room?”
My eyes drill into him, ice cold.
“I’d choose my next few words very carefully,” I growl quietly.
“Oh, would you?” Hades snaps. “As carefully as you made theenlightenedfucking decision to bringherinto this family!?” He jabs a finger at Una, sneering.
“Hades,” Kratos murmurs. “Take a walk.”
“Fucktaking a walk. That thing could have blown Neve’s fucking head off!”
