a reassuring tone.
“Oh my god, Carter, it’s my entire fault. Sam is dead because of me!” Anne bellowed out into the wool fibers.
“It’s not your fault. Stop saying that.”
He continued to stroke her tear-saturated blonde strands, placing kisses atop her head.
“It is! If I hadn’t met him at the park, putting him in danger, he would still be alive!”
Anne was near hysterics. Carter wrapped his fingers around her arms and pulled her back so he could see her agony-twisted face.
“He wasn’t murdered because of you, so please stop blaming yourself. Sam was in a lot of trouble. He was associating with people he shouldn’t have been.”
Anne tried to focus on Carter’s gorgeous sapphire eyes. They reeled her in like they had their own gravitational pull.
“Anneliese, did you take something? Your eyes look glassy?”
“When I saw the picture of his wife and daughter on the TV, I lost it and—” Her voice trailed off as her body began to feel boneless.
Carter tightened his hold on her, picking her up in his arms, cradling her like a small child.
“How many of those did you take?” he asked, placing her down on the bed and then kneeling down to the scattered pills on the floor.
“Just one. I was having an anxiety attack. They help me calm down.”
Carter placed the remaining pills in the bottle and back into the drawer. Her hunched body fell to the side, nearly missing her wrought-iron headboard. Her head sank into the plush down pillow. The room grew dark as Carter shut the lamp off and made his way to the other side of the bed. He lay down next her, and she moved closer to him, draping her arm over his stomach, feeling it rise and fall with each breath. He stroked her arm with the tips of his fingers. Anne let out a weary exhale.
“I am so sorry, Carter. Sam was your best friend and I...I just can’t believe he’s gone. Just like that. Now his daughter is going to grow up not ever knowing her father.”
A rogue tear trailed down over her nose and soaked Carter’s sweater. She knew that feeling all too well. Not fully knowing who you are or where you came from.
“Shhhhhh, my Anneliese, just close your eyes and rest. I’m here. It’s all right.”
Carter’s touch was melting her deeper into a hazy sleep. Through the night there were moments where she felt awake and others were a trance, as though her body was disconnecting from her and floating around the boundaries of her bedroom. She heard Carter’s voice out in the living room, talking to someone. Not able to distinguish realism from hallucination, she tried to listen to Carter’s firm words.
“I don’t care what he told you. Get it done.”
Silence, then footsteps.
“Carter?”
“I’m here. How are you feeling?” he asked, perching next to her and gently rubbing her arm.
“Who were you talking to?”
His spine stiffened.
“Oh that—well…my mother is asking a lot of questions, so I’m just trying to pacify her. Nothing for you to worry about.”
Anne ran her fingers through her snarled hair.
“What time is it?”
“Close to midnight. You have been out for some time but you needed it. You scared me, Anneliese.”
“Why?”
“You seemed frantic. I’ve never seen you like that and you taking medication—that’s new.”
Anne sat up, still feeling the after-effects from the pink wonder.
“Um, yeah, I haven’t taken one in a long time. After you disappeared I started therapy and my doctor prescribed some medication to help me, but like I said, I haven’t had to take any of it until…”
She swallowed the rest of her words.
“Until I came back, right?”
He looked down at his hands.
“Well, yeah, but when I saw Sam’s face, knowing I just saw him, it shook me up. I saw that BMW follow him out of the parking lot. I should have done something.”
“Like what? I told you these people were dangerous.”
“I should have gone to the police. Sam was one of the good guys, Carter, and he was just doing what you told him to do.”
Carter shot up.
“So this is my fault?”
Anne was in no condition to involve herself in a spat with Carter so instead of continuing the banter she shook her head and walked into the bathroom. Following closely behind her, Carter’s reflection stood next to her in the mirror as she brushed her rat’s-nest hair.
“Carter, I’m not going to fight with you.”
The word defeat should have been scrolling across her forehead. The silence said more than words ever could.
“I love you, Anneliese, and