on a boat somewhere in the Persian Gulf keeping Iran out of trouble.” Ava Jackson. A certified genius.
“She got home about two weeks ago. Her mother’s having some medical issues and Ava got a humanitarian placement in order to be closer to home and take care of her.”
“Her father died,” Sarah said, wondering why her tongue slurred the words.
“I know.”
“There have been times I wish mine would.” The thought shocked her. The look on Caden’s face jolted her. Had she said the words out loud? Apparently. Remorse came in waves, but her father’s latest betrayal had struck deep, creating a wound she couldn’t fathom ever healing. This one even worse than the first. The first betrayal had been his lack of caring for her mother when she’d been dying. No, forgiveness wasn’t an option at the moment.
“Sarah . . .” Gavin’s voice came from a distance while the blessed blackness beckoned. The darkness tempted her to let go of reality. All she had to do was drop into it and she could escape this world of pain, sorrow, and traitorous fathers. For a moment she fought it, then gave up, letting it swallow her back into the world of painless oblivion.
The nightmare woke her the next time. And the next. Every time it was the same. And every time, either Caden or Gavin had been there to hold her hand and reassure her that she was safe.
But now, she let herself relive it, sifting through the details, trying to tell herself it wasn’t real.
She was trapped in the midst of a crush of bodies. When she finally managed to break free and run, she ended up at a locked door while the bodies followed her, reaching for her, wanting to smother her. And then Dustin was stepping off the roof of the hospital, arms outstretched, face raised to the heavens. Free-falling . . .
And she was screaming, reaching through the bars of her prison cell . . . and firing the gun that killed a man. That red mist spraying, covering everything. Her hands, her face, drowning her, filling her mouth, her lungs, cutting off her air . . .
She shuddered and threw the covers off. Gavin and Caden were both gone, and for some reason, being alone terrified her. Sweat beaded her brow in spite of the cool hospital room. When she sat up, her stomach growled. The rumble took her by surprise, and she realized she was starving. A good sign she was on the way to getting better? Hopefully.
Light filtered in under the door from the hallway, and a scream reached her. Then another. Sarah swung her legs over the side of the bed and her bare feet touched the floor. Yet another wail sent shivers racing over her skin, and she wondered if it was the same person she’d heard last night about this time. Ignoring the dull throb in her side, Sarah grabbed the IV pole and stood. While weak, she decided she could make it to the door.
Once there, she opened it a fraction. The yells had subsided to sobs that came from the room next to hers. The palpable angst twisted her heart into a sympathetic knot.
Sarah carefully slipped out the door, and walked five steps to her neighbor’s room. When she pushed the door open, the crying intensified.
Stringy blonde hair lay limp around a pretty heart-shaped face and tears tracked down flushed cheeks. Blue eyes lifted and locked with Sarah’s, and Sarah sucked in a sharp breath. For a moment, the cries faltered. Sarah’s gaze dropped to the restraints around the thin wrists with enough lead to let her reach the bathroom. But she definitely couldn’t leave the room. The pitiful woman whimpered. “Please let me go. Please help me.”
“What’s your name?” Sarah asked, moving closer.
The eyes darted to the door, then to Sarah. Back to the door. Tears continued to fall and drip from her chin to the bedcovers. “Bri—Brianne.”
“I’m Sarah.”
“Take them off,” Brianne whimpered, holding up her shackled wrists. “Please take them off.”
Sarah bit her lip. “Why are they on?” She couldn’t help asking.
“Because I know too much. We all do. They’re killing us,” Brianne whispered. “They’re going to kill us all!” She shook her hands, a violent convulsing that rocked her whole body and dug the plastic into her tender skin. “Get them off! I need to get out of here before they kill me!”
The woman’s stark terror sent waves of unease through Sarah. Obviously, she was mentally ill,