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There’d been so much blood.
My stomach tore itself apart.
Three ribs? A broken hip? Stitches?
Fuck.
“Will he be okay?” I whispered. “Can you take me to him?”
“He’s awake and refusing to tell staff his name.” Her head shot up, the lines of text she’d read still glowing in her stare. “Good grief, he mentioned you, though. That’s not good. Not good at all.”
Before I could ask why or what she planned on doing, she bent over me, pressed a quick kiss to my forehead, and whispered, “Don’t tell anyone, under any circumstances, that you’re looking for him. If someone comes to you asking if you know a man asking for you, deny it.”
“But I—”
“Deny it, Neri. Or you and your parents will be in worse trouble than he is.” Patting my cheek, she narrowed her eyes. “Stay here. Don’t say a word.”
She left in a flurry of pink Crocs before I could stop her.
The temptation to chase after her hit me strong.
But fear over making things worse made me stay.
I always make things worse...
My eyes fell on the small table beside me and the plastic bag holding Aslan’s smashed phone, mine in its glittery blue case, my blood-covered clutch, money-clip, and the spiky shell that I’d been clinging to as I’d collapsed beside Aslan.
My necklace wasn’t there.
Most likely still in the gutter and lost forever.
I don’t care.
If it were a tax I had to pay to have Aslan returned to me, I’d happily pay it.
I’ll sacrifice anything and everything.
Just please...let him be okay...
With tears stinging, I ripped open the bag, grabbed Aslan’s shell, and fisted it close.
I stroked it and begged it to fix everything that I’d broken, all while my fingers went to my engagement ring. The ring with the Latin inscription: Per lunam tuus sum, per mare meus es. Aeternum. (By moonlight I am yours, by sea you are mine. Forever).
I started to spin the wave-trapped diamond.
Nervous and worried.
Spin.
Spin.
Afraid and terrified.
Spin.
Spin.
Spinning away time until Aslan was mine again.
