“Have you ever had a voice of reason?” he questions.
“I’ve only ever had Pike, and he’s just as screwed up as I am, if not more. We’re sick people; I know this. But when you grow up like we did, you can’t expect sanity,” I say. “My father was good. He didn’t deserve the life that was dealt to him after what Bennett did. I didn’t deserve it either. The thing is, there will always be someone next in line after my father. The gun trafficking doesn’t stop, so what’s the point? The world isn’t suddenly good now that my father isn’t here.”
“So you plot to kill?”
“I used to fantasize about what it would feel like to kill when I was a kid,” I admit. “The thought brought me a sense of satisfaction and elated me. Relief. Freedom. Peace. To eliminate the truly bad, removing it so that you no longer have to exist in a world where it does.”
“You can’t live like that. Killing and holding on to the past.”
“I’m not holding on to it, I’m trying to let it go.”
“You haven’t let it go. Instead, you married it, and now it’s controlling every aspect of your life. You met a man you love, but Bennett has power over that because he’s your husband and you were forced to fill this other man with lies . . . because of Bennett—because of the past you are refusing to let go of.”
His words hit me hard. But how do you let go of a wound that is cut so deep there’s no chance of it ever healing, at least not without an ugly scar to remind you of it? So I simply ask, “How do I let go?”
“It’s easy, really. You find what makes you happy, and you walk towards it, leaving the past behind,” he tells me. “So what you need to ask yourself is, what makes you happy?”
“Declan.” My answer comes without any second thought or hesitation.
“Then go to him. Go find him and don’t look back. Soon the happiness will be enough to weaken the control the past has on you, and it won’t hurt as badly as it does right now.”
“But I’m here. How do I get back?” I ask and watch as he makes his way to the edge of the leaf, and when we pass a log floating in the water, he slides onto it when the bark meets the lily pad.
“Carnegie, wait! How do I get back?” I ask as I begin to drift away from the log.
“There are signs everywhere. You just have to look for them,” he tells me. “Come back and visit me, okay?”
“I do. Every night in my dreams.”
“Those are dreams though.”
“Is this not a dream?” I ask, suddenly very confused about what this is, and his response doesn’t help when he says, “This is your awakening,” before scooting his spiraled body down the length of the log and eventually disappearing into the forest.
I continue to float aimlessly around the pond, staring up into the sky, thinking about everything Carnegie said to me. He’s right; I need to walk away from my past if I don’t want it to follow me.
Hours pass as I enjoy the serene tranquility of my surroundings, and when I see the shimmer of the sun rising through the trees in the distance, its sparkling rays light up the murky water. It’s then that I see my sign. Green bulbs that stick out of the water begin to open, hundreds of them. One by one, lotus flowers bloom, spreading their pure white petals over the muddled water. They’re beautiful, and when I float into the blooms, I have to squint against the bright light that the sun’s glow is creating in this fragrant, white paradise.
DARKNESS.
Nothing but black as I lie here awake, although I’m not awake. I can feel a warm hand stroking my arm as I inhale a familiar smell.
Bennett.
My body aches, throbbing in a dulled pain, but when I try to move, I can’t. When I try to open my eyes, I can’t. But I can feel Bennett’s touch. I can smell him. I can hear the steady beeping of a machine that alerts me to the fact that I’m in a hospital.
The last thing I remember is lying helplessly on my dining room floor while Pike threw kick after violent kick to my stomach.
My stomach!
My baby!
I can’t wake up. But do I even want to? I already miss Carnegie. Do I really want to wake up to find the horror that’s waiting for me? What happened with Pike? Why did he do it?
“Mr. Vanderwal,” a soft, female voice says, but I can’t see anything as I lie here in my comatose state.
“Finally,” he says with an urgency to his voice. “What’s going on? Is she going to be okay?”
“She’s stabilized, but she had a lot of internal bleeding. Unfortunately, there was a fetomaternal hemorrhage and by the time she arrived here by ambulance, she had already lost the baby.”
No! God, no!
With all the strength I have, I try to move, I try to do anything, but nothing happens. I’m stuck, unable to get out a cry, a scream, a movement, something to release the torment that is beginning to flood inside of me.
“Baby?” Bennett questions. “What baby?”
Oh, God.
“Your wife was pregnant.”
“No. There must be some mistake. My wife has endometriosis. She can’t get pregnant,” he refutes.
“I’m so sorry. I know this is a difficult time, but according to her OB/GYN file that was faxed over, it seems the pregnancy was confirmed last week. I have noted that an ultrasound was performed, indicating at that time, she was nearly ten weeks pregnant.”
I don’t hear a response from Bennett, and I can only imagine his shock right now.
Bennett, speak. Say something.
“I’ll give you some time,” she says. “I’ll be back to check in. If you need anything, just hit the call button, okay?”
“Yeah,” he responds on a breath, and when I hear the door click, he removes his hand from my arm, and the room is silent.
I can’t even think about Bennett, all I can think about is my baby. The baby that Pike took away from me. The baby that Pike killed. He knew exactly what he was doing, beating my stomach as violently as he did.
I hate him.
I thrash around like a maniac inside, trying to free myself, but my body doesn’t respond. I’m paralyzed in this bed.
“She’s in the hospital,” Bennett says, but I don’t hear anyone else in the room.
“I need you to get here now,” he demands. “Bring everything you have on her.”
He has to be on the phone, but what the hell is he talking about? Who is he talking to and what do they have on me? Fuck. What’s going on? I need to get out of here. I need to find Declan. I can’t breathe. Oh my God, I’m panicking and I can’t breathe. Machines start to go off, filling the room with loud beeps.
“Nurse!” Bennett yells, and moments later, a cold fluid swims through my veins and I drift out peacefully.
“WHAT THE HELL happened?” I hear a man’s voice say. It sounds familiar, but my head is so fuzzy as I come out of a deep sleep.
“I got a call from Clara. She had come to the penthouse and found Nina beaten and unconscious. I don’t know what happened. I’ve spoken to the police and they’re investigating,” Bennett says. “Tell me what you know.”
“You wanna do this here?” the man questions.
“Yeah.”
“Her name’s not Nina.”
Oh no. No, no, no, no.
“What are you talking about?” Bennett asks.
“Her name is Elizabeth Archer. A runaway foster kid,” he reveals. “It’s all in the file.”
“Archer? Sounds familiar.”
It should, you asshole.
“Her father was arrested for international gun trafficking,” the man says.
“I know her.”
“Looks like she came straight for you. Piece of advice . . . call your lawyer.”
“As soon as you can, I want surveillance set up,” Bennett demands, but there’s no need. I’m done with him, and the only thing I’m guilty of is identity theft.