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My head feels dizzy, as I’m flooded with this memory that I tried so desperately to forget.
The car accident.
Fire, snow, smoke.
The ground feels unsteady underneath my feet.
“Your assistant doesn’t look so good,” the old man speaks.
“Yeah, I was just about to send her home for the day until you so rudely interrupted.”
“Why are you calling himdad?” I finally speak through hyperventilation. Callan’s eyes fill with fear as he notices the panic in my voice.
“Sterling, are you okay?” Callan reaches over for my arm. His dad’s eyes are studying me sharply. The walls feel like they’re caving in.
“This is- this is-” I can’t get the words out.
“Son.” The man looks at Callan and I know he remembers me.
He has to.
The money.
The inconvenience.
“Sorry about the accident.”
“Callan.” I try to grab on to something, anything. I feel like the room is going black as I fall backward, catching myself on Callan’s desk.
“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Callan tries to hold me up and the touch of his hand on the small of my back sends adrenaline up my spine. Suddenly, the room stops spinning for a minute and I take a deep, long breath.
“Sweetheart?” His dad looks between the two of us.
“Callan,” I attempt to speak as calmly as possible. “Is this man your dad?” I ask, afraid of his response. Even though I already know the answer.
“Yeah. Why?” He looks confused. But he had to have known the whole time. There’s no way he didn’t know. There’s no way he…wait. If his dad is the man who bribed me, that has to mean…
“Someone I love…”
“You?” I seethe in question at Callan. “It was you!?”
I look over at the man who seems slightly uneasy now, as if he’s just now realizing what I am just now realizing.
“So, this isher?” He asks Callan but is still staring at me. My body feels numb again, like I might faint.
“What the fuck is going on?” Callan demands.
“I can’t believe you’ve been lying to me this whole time!” I shout at Callan. “And you!” I point to his dad. “You’re a piece of shit, you know that?”
His dad snickers a small, sad, laugh laced with the roughness of a cough. Callan’s eyes blink heavily, the hazel turning black, and his chest collapses harder with each exhale.
“Sterling, what are you talking about?” His concerned tone doesn’t sound angry, but I can tell he’s muddled and irritated. “Someone tell me what the fuck is happening!” Callan tries to lean into me, but I push him away.
“Don’t touch me!” My mind goes blank, everything replaying in my head.
I try to form the words, my mind flashing between the night of the crash, and now.
Flames that beg to be put out, but the betrayal I feel only sets the fire free.
