I had to tell Monroe.
* * *
Screams echoed around me,hands clamped down on me, and I fought, thrashing against them. A cry of panic left my throat as I struggled.
“No! He can’t die!”
“Ssh, Loren. It’s okay. Go to sleep. It’s okay.”
A prick against my skin sent a cold shiver through me, but I tumbled into the darkness, my hand reaching for anyone to grab me.
And then it was all dark.
* * *
Voices whispered around me,thoughts jumbled, but all I could think of was the red stickiness of the blood, and how it had felt coated on my hands.
He was gone.
No! Wells!
A whimper escaped, and I rolled, trying to free myself of the restraints, but they held me down. They would take me under again and steal my baby.
“No! You can’t have her. Not again,” I cried, the tears covering my face. I didn’t dare open my eyes, too scared at what reality I would discover.
“She’s panicking too much. I hate to say it, but you need to give her something more to sleep. Maybe if she sleeps long enough, she’ll wake up without screaming. I can’t take hearing her scream his name like that. Please, Atticus.”
I recognized the voice, but I was too scared to face them.
“Fine, Goldie, but it’s on you.”
“Please,” I whispered, hoping they’d hear my plea for what it was—a cry for help. I didn’t want to be here anymore, not if one of them was gone. “I’m not ready.”
I didn’t know if I whispered it or thought it, but a few seconds later, the familiar prick of the needle and the cold feeling washed through me and this time, I let it take me under.