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He stares at me in shock, but that emotion is swiftly carried away by another. “You are going home,” he says carefully. “With me.”
“No.” I shake my head, tears leaking from my eyes. “I want to go back to my home. With my family.”
His throat works, eyes piercing mine with something I can’t quite identify—nor do I care to. I know he won’t let me go. Maybe it’s foolish even to ask, but everything is catching up to me all at once, and that dam of emotion is about to burst.
“If you don’t let me go, I’ll leave at the first chance I get,” I tell him. “I’ll run from you and never look back.”
He doesn’t respond, and the doctor looks like he has no idea how to handle this situation. We’re in a Society hospital. Things are not in my favor here, and they never will be. Azrael has all the power in this dynamic.
“Willow,” he begins, but fails to find the words he’s searching for.
“Let me go,” I plead, pain lancing through my voice. “Let us both go.”
“I can’t do that.” He leans down, brushing my tears away before he tries to kiss me.
For one second, I allow myself to feel that warmth and his false comfort. I let myself believe the lie before I pull back and shake my head, emotion stealing all rational thought.
“Then kill me now!” I scream at him. “Don’t take us home and draw it out. Stop torturing me, and get it over with! I refuse to let you raise this baby. I won’t let my child grow up in that house.”
That’s the crux of it. I don’t even realize it until the words are out of my mouth. But if I have to choose between sentencing my child to death with me or sentencing her to a lifetime of hell under Salomé’s supervision, I would rather end it all now.
Azrael stares at me in disbelief, words still failing him, and it only makes me angrier.
“Nan,” I call out. “I need you!”
My grandmother appears in the doorway a moment later, followed by my entire family as they filter into the room. The doctor uses the opportunity to make a quick escape, muttering something about returning tomorrow with discharge papers.
“What’s going on?” my father demands, his eyes cutting over Azrael sharply.
“Willow?” My mother rushes to me, clutching at my hands. “Are you okay?”
“I want to talk to Nanna,” I tell them. “Please. I just need to talk to her alone.”
They all wear matching expressions of concern, but my grandmother puts them at ease as she pushes her way through the crowd and waves them away. “Everyone out.” Her voice leaves little room to argue, but it doesn’t stop them from lingering momentarily before they reluctantly filter back into the hall.
Everyone except for Azrael.
“Him too.” My voice trembles as I refuse to meet his gaze.
“You heard her,” Nan tells him. “Out, Azrael.”
I can feel his attention on me. He wants to argue. I’m convinced he will. When he heeds my grandmother’s order, it surprises both of us.
The door shuts with a click of finality, and I promptly burst into another fit of tears while my grandmother holds me, trying her best to soothe me. She rubs my back, letting me cry it out, giving me time to purge myself of the feelings I’ve been holding back. And finally, after a long stretch of silence, I’m able to gather my thoughts.
“My dear, sweet girl,” Nan says. “Tell me what troubles you so.”
“I need your help.” I swipe at my eyes, trying and failing to look like I’m in a rational state of mind.
“Okay, what is it?” she asks.
“I need you to make me a sleeping potion,” I whisper. “One that will put me to sleep forever.”
“Willow.” Terror streaks through her eyes as she shakes her head frantically. “No. I can’t do that—”
“I’m pregnant, Nan.”
My words halt her protest, and she falls into shocked stillness as she processes the weight of that reality.
“It’s a girl,” I whimper, clutching my stomach. “I can feel her. I don’t know how. I can’t explain it. But I just know. I feel her.”
She nods in understanding, smoothing my hair back into place. “I know you can.”
“I can’t let them take her,” I tell her, panic making my voice too high. “I can’t let her grow up without me in that house with Salomé. Please, Nanna, you have to help me.”
She holds me tight as I break down again, hating myself for even making such a request. I know how it sounds. It makes me feel even worse. But I don’t know what else to do.
“You know they’ll never let her come live with my family. This is the only thing that makes sense. I have to run… or I have to die.”
