Unleashing Sin - A. M. Wilson Page 0,7

swelling in her brain. If I wait until she wakes up, it might be too late.”

My feet carry me to the side of the bed. “Thought that was unsafe.”

“The hospital would be unwise. Too open. However, I’ve made a call to a trusted colleague. Dr. Sader is one of the top neurologists in the county. He’s agreed to meet us after hours at his specialty clinic. She’ll be safe there.”

Richard catches my eye and gives me a nod of approval.

I look back at Molly’s still, thin form lying in bed. God, she’s so damn broken.

“All right. Do it fast, though. I don’t want us out in public longer than we have to be.”

***

Molly still hasn’t woken up.

The CT was normal, but that was two days ago. Doc said she’s been through a trauma, and her body is in recovery mode. That she’ll wake up when she’s ready.

With each hour that ticks past, I become more worried she’s never going to wake. That would be the ultimate punishment for my fuckup, right? Cruel trick, universe, giving me back my sister only for her to be comatose for the rest of her life.

Couple that with the fact it’s been days since I’ve been high, and I’m a fucking mess. The withdrawals are hell; I knew they would be. Each hour that ticks past is worse than the last. It’s all for Molly, though. She needs me clean so I can help her become the same.

We’ve settled at Elias’s place. He has an extra room where we put Molly, and I’ve been crashing on his couch. More like the floor in the spare room, but he doesn’t need to know that. I just can’t leave her alone. If something else happens to her, I need to be there. It’s the least I can do.

That’s where I find myself two days after Molly came back to me, but this time, it’s with less anticipation and more confusion.

Her face has started to heal. The swelling has gone down significantly, and the cuts are starting to fade. Purple bruises still cover most of the surface, but those will take a little longer to disappear.

The problem isn’t the bruises.

The problem is that with each new change, her face looks less and less like the Molly I remember and more like a stranger. And I don’t know if it’s because I haven’t seen her in a while and she’s lost a lot of weight, or maybe…fuck, I don’t even want to think it.

Maybe this isn’t even Molly.

It burns, that thought.

I must be paranoid. It’s been days since I’ve had something to numb my existence—booze, drugs—so this must be a withdrawal effect.

A knock sounds at the door. “You need a break?”

“No.”

Elias appears deaf as he wanders farther into the room. “Her face is looking better.”

“Yep.”

“A little different too.”

My hands curl into fists so tight the tension solidifies my forearms. “Don’t.”

He holds his hands out, palms facing me in a placating gesture. “Not a bad thing. What she’s gone through…I’m not surprised she’s a little different.”

“She’s not different!”

Elias’s head snaps back at my fury. “You’ve got to prepare yourself if that’s what you think. She’s been to hell and back. If you think that’s left her untouched, you’re going to have a hell of a time being there for her when she’s not even remotely the same.”

“She’s still Molly.” The crack in my voice gives away my uncertainty.

“She is. She’s also not, and you know that’s the damn truth.”

All I can do is give him an icy glare. The fucker glares back.

Our tense silence is broken up by a piercing scream coming from the bed. Clumsiness and sleep deprivation make me trip over my own feet as I scramble from the floor. In my rush to get to her, I slam my foot against the frame of the bed and let out my own violent sounding, “Fuck!” The pain pulsates hot in my foot, but I ignore it.

Molly starts thrashing, my own shout seeming to agitate her more. She scoots backward up the bed until she’s smashed against the headboard. The blankets tremble in her hand, creating waves from where she has them gathered tightly beneath her chin.

Fearful.

“Molly. It’s okay. You’re home safe.” My voice grates out like rough sandpaper. I never thought I’d speak those words. Not to her living ears, that is. I always imagined I’d identify her in some morgue and have to tell her corpse how sorry I was and that she’s safe now. And by