piece of gauze and instructs me to hold it to the side of my head while he clicks a seatbelt over my lap. Then, he and his partner secure Margot into the ambulance, and the sirens go on.
Jim sits beside me, peeling the gauze off my face. I stare at Margot, seeing nothing.
The paramedic’s touch is gentle as he cleans the wound on my forehead, patching it up with a small bandage.
“Shouldn’t need any stitches,” he says with a sad smile.
“What’s going on?” My voice doesn’t sound like my own. It’s scratchy, like my throat has been ripped to shreds from the inside. I motion to Margot, shaking my head. “What’s… How…”
Tears sting my eyes, and I don’t have the energy to brush them away.
“Your sister overdosed,” Jim explains. “We’ve been seeing more and more of these in the past few weeks. Fentanyl has started making its way into the heroin supply in Farcliff. We think it’s coming up through the border with the U.S.”
“My sister doesn’t do heroin,” I spit, even though the evidence in front of my face suggests otherwise. I shake my head. “She doesn’t.”
Jim lets out a sigh, patting my knee. The ambulance lurches as we speed through the streets.
Tears fall from my eyes, but I don’t feel them. I don’t sob. The only reason I know I’m crying is because the tears drip onto my lap, my hands, my arms. I hug my stomach, staring at my sister.
Jim’s watch goes off, and he swipes a sterile wipe on Margot’s leg. Then, in a practiced movement, he injects her thigh again.
“What’s that?” I croak.
“It’s the same drug we used earlier. It doesn’t last forever, so we need to make sure her heart keeps beating until we get her to the hospital.”
We have to make sure her heart keeps beating.
Because she took heroin.
Laced with fentanyl.
And overdosed.
Closing my eyes, I try to keep the bad thoughts at bay. The whispering, evil voices that tell me I should have seen it. I should have stopped it. I should have known.
The voices that tell me I was too busy worrying about my virginity and the Prince to notice my own sister was in trouble.
The slithering, hissing voices that tell me it’s my fault. If I wasn’t so jealous of her, I would have seen the signs. If I didn’t resent my own sister so much, I could have saved her.
If I wasn’t so selfish, I would have seen this coming.
When we stop outside the hospital emergency department, I follow the paramedics inside and shield my eyes against the glare of the fluorescent lights.
The smell of rubber, sanitizer, and that unique smell of hospital hits me. A nurse puts her hand on my arm and says kind words, but all I can hear is the voice that tells me this is all my fault.
26
Luca
Breakfast is served in the casual dining room at Farcliff Castle. ‘Casual’ might be the wrong word for it. I’m greeted by a long banquet table laden with silver platters, piled high with all manner of treats and delicacies. There aren’t as many priceless paintings on the wall as the formal dining room, though, and the chairs are more comfortable.
When I walk into the room, Beckett’s head whips toward me.
“L-Luca,” he stammers, unable to contain his shock.
I arch an eyebrow. “Surprised to see me?”
Scanning the long table, I look for the special cinnamon buns with little chunks of apple in them. Not seeing them right away, I walk the length of the table.
Beckett’s eyes follow me. “I wasn’t expecting to see you this morning.”
I glance up at him. “No?”
His face looks dark. His eyes are nearly black.
I look away from my little brother, not wanting him to dampen my spirits. I don’t have time for his moodiness this morning. I’m too happy for that.
Not seeing the cinnamon buns, I opt for some scrambled eggs. I nod to the chef in the white hat, standing behind a portable stove. He cracks a couple of eggs and starts whisking them with a pair of chopsticks right in the pan.
Beckett appears by my side. “How are you feeling?”
His eyes search mine, and unease crawls up my spine. I turn away from him, ignoring the sour taste that coats the back of my throat.
The chef hands me a plate of steaming scrambled eggs, which I accept with a nod.
Beckett’s eyes follow me as I find a seat at the edge of the room. Finally, when I refuse to meet his gaze, my