“Get the fuck out of my face,” the prince snarled.
The judge pounded her gavel hard. “Order on the court!”
A reporter shoved a wireless microphone on the prince’s face, asking, “What do you think about Fawn Cornwall drinking her pee—-”
The prince didn’t even think.
He swung his fist hard, sending the reporter crashing, and he roared, “Don’t you even fucking say her name—-”
From behind, the judge pounded her gavel again. “Reid Chalkias, you are hereby held in contempt!”
Boos and cheers rose from the crowd, the spectators divided as officers rushed in to hold him off. With a burst of strength brought by acute anguish, the prince was able to shrug them all off.
He only had one thought—-
He had to get to Fawn.
He had to get to Fawn.
He had to get to Fawn.
But more men came after him, and there was nowhere to go.
****
Real-time transmission on the screen showed officers shoving the prince down to his knees while another one managed to cuff his hands behind his back. Now secured, the prince was hauled up——
Fawn whispered, “I’ve seen enough.”
Beside her, Grant reached for the remote control and pressed the power button, shutting the TV off.
Her mother was crying, and Fawn thought numbly, I’m sorry, Mom. Throughout Dana’s life, her one thought was to provide for her daughter, and she had worked tirelessly and happily for it.
Dana didn’t deserve a disgustingly stupid daughter like her.
On the opposite side of the room, Grant’s mother was also crying, her face pressed against her husband’s chest.
They were good people, too, Fawn thought painfully. Good people who hadn’t owed her anything, and yet they had stood by her from the start.
Good people like them shouldn’t be seen with people like her.
She heard Grant talk in a low, indiscernible voice to his parents, saw them leave quietly—-
Her throat tightened.
Fawn knew she should say something.
Thank you.
I’m sorry.
But she couldn’t.
Shame had engulfed her, and it was all that she could feel and taste. Shame defined her, and she had the silliest and most terrifying fear that if she spoke, her shame would afflict them, too.
The door closed behind Grant’s parents.
A shadow fell over her.
It was Dana, and Fawn couldn’t help stiffening when she saw her mother reach for her—-
“No,” she choked out before she could stop herself.
Dana’s arm fell back to her side, Fawn’s mother catching back a sob. “Oh, baby.”
Self-loathing turned her shame into something more excruciating as Fawn realized how much she was hurting her mother. She said jerkily, “Sorry. I’m...sorry.”
“Why would you think you have something to be sorry for, baby?” Dana’s tone was anguished. “You were brave. The bravest girl in the world, and I’m so proud you’re my daughter.”
When Fawn didn’t speak, Dana lifted a hand, hesitated, and then she pressed her fingers ever so gently to the top of her daughter’s head, scared that the slightest touch would make her baby break.
“I love you.”
Fawn didn’t answer, but her knees slowly went up, and Dana’s heart broke at the way her baby hid her face with her arms. She wished she had something else to say, something that could take away her baby’s pain, but Dana was at a loss. What Fawn had gone through was beyond even her worst imagination, and in the end all she could do was turn to Grant, her eyes more eloquently expressing what she couldn’t speak in words.
Please help her.
And then it was just Fawn and Grant.
She heard him take a seat next to her bed, still not the same Grant he used to be, but he was getting there, and she was happy for him. As much as her heart could still beat, as much as she could remember what it was not to feel empty, she was happy for him.
Minutes passed.
Grant said haltingly, “It’s just...like...o-old days.”
Ah.
“W-won’t y-you look up?”
Fawn shook her head.
“Because you’re u-ugly?”
“No.” She waited for herself to laugh, but nothing came. She waited for herself to cry, but the tears refused to come.
She was completely empty.
Slowly, she lifted her head, turning to Grant.
Her flesh was no longer smooth, her skin nothing but a mass of scars. She was the stuff horror movies were made of, and yet Grant’s gaze didn’t swerve from hers.
“I w-was proud, you know,” she told him tonelessly. “Because I thought...it was—-”
Meredith Grayson’s words screamed into Fawn’s mind.
Do you get it now?
You’re a fucking brick around his neck he doesn’t want—-”