I try to take a shallow, shorter breath, but it feels wholly unsatisfying.
“What day is it?”
“Saturday,” Carson answers. “You slept straight through the night and most of the day today.”
Now that I’m able to focus on the people around me, I notice how exhausted everyone looks. I wonder if they all stayed up last night, waiting at my bedside, hoping I’d open my eyes.
There’s a cough coming from the doorway, and my gaze flickers over to see Officer Rains leaning against the frame.
“You’re awake,” he says, smiling at me. “I hope that means you’ll forgive me for having to ask you some questions.”
He glances around the room.
“Alone.”
My friends take the hint.
“I really need to be getting back to Holly Fields anyway,” Wyatt says. He wheels his chair closer to me and grabs my hand.
“I’m glad you’re okay, Cyn.”
He says it so quietly, it’s practically a whisper. I just nod, swallowing hard. He smiles at my Dad, who pats his shoulder as he leaves the room.
Rainey is next, then Carson—both of them try to hug me with the lightest possible embrace. Rainey kisses my cheek, and Carson grabs both of my hands.
“I love you,” she says fiercely. “I don’t know what I would have done if—well, I just want you to know how much I love you.”
“I know,” I say, trying my best to smile. “I love you back.”
They both hug my dad before walking out the door, although Rainey stops to ogle Officer Rains for a second before she leaves.
“Can I stay with her for this?” Dad asks him. “Or do you need me to leave?”
“You can stay. It might be better. Easier.”
Dad smiles at me, then strokes my hand.
“Honey, you can relax—the police aren’t here because you did anything wrong. They just have to ask you a few questions about the accident.”
I manage to nod the slightest bit. “I’m not sure how helpful I’ll be.”
“Just tell the truth, Hyacinth.”
I close my eyes for a long second, then open them. How am I supposed to tell a police officer that his brother was part of a drug deal on school property?
“How are you feeling?” Officer Rains asks, moving closer to me.
I swallow hard. “I’m—I’m okay.”
“Good—that’s good.” He pulls a small notepad from his pocket, along with a ballpoint pen. “I’m going to need to ask you a few questions about last night. We’ve already gotten a lot of information from other witnesses, but we need your version of the story to corroborate the details.”
Other witnesses.
He’s talking about Smith.
“You can ask me whatever you need to,” I manage to say.
Rains clears his throat.
“I really only have one. I need to know about my brother.”
I glance up at Rains. He’s leaning with his back against the nearby wall, and his arms are crossed over his chest. His expression is impassive, his body language fierce. For a second, he reminds me so much of Smith.
“What about him?” I ask.
“What was he doing during all of this?”
“He was talking to J. D. Then, after I was hit, he was next to me. He—he stayed with me, I think.”
He nods. “He rode with you in the ambulance actually. But what I meant was, what was he doing before that? Like, when he was talking to J. D., was there anything exchanged?”
I blink at him. “I—I’m not sure.”
He shifts in his chair. “Are you sure you’re not sure?”
I can feel my pulse quicken, which is kind of a problem when you’re hooked up to a heart monitor. All three of us glance over at it when it starts to beep in warning. I look up at Officer Rains again.
“There was cash,” I finally whisper. “And a bag of something. Pills, I think.”
“Thank you.” He gives me a sad smile—the kind of smile you see when a man finds out his younger brother is involved in drugs.
“I—Smith tried to save me,” I sort of stutter. “He’s made some mistakes, but he’s not a criminal. He’s a good person. I don’t want to see him get into trouble.”
Officer Rains walks closer to me.
“He isn’t in trouble—I’m just confirming all the details. We want to corroborate his story with yours.”
“But, the drugs . . .” I trail off. “Will he be arrested?”
“No,” he sighs. “He won’t be arrested.”
I frown.
“I don’t understand.”
Officer Rains looks down at his notebook, then runs a hand through his sandy-colored hair.
“He won’t be arrested, because he was just doing his job.”
I blink. Then I blink again.
“He was what now?”
He touches my shoulder gently, as though he knows what he’s going to say is about to knock me asunder.
“My brother was working undercover, Hyacinth. He’s not a high school student. He’s a cop.”
***
I don’t hear most of what Rains says after that, not that he has much to say at all. Instead, I sit, frozen, staring at the framed starfish print on the wall across from my bed. I think about everything I know and everything I thought I knew. I try to remember anything that could have tipped me off.
There was a reason he looked so much older.
It’s because he was so much older.
Fuck.
When Officer Rains finally leaves, he gives me a pat on the shoulder and a sympathetic smile.
“Hang in there, alright? I hope you’re feeling like your old self soon.”
I just blink at him, because I don’t know if I want to feel like my old self soon. What self could I possibly want to be now? The self before I met Smith? The self when I believed he was a student? Or the self I am today, enlightened and confused and hurt? None of it brings me any peace.
Dad clears his throat once Officer Rains leaves the room.
“Princess?” I look over at him and he’s holding a book in his hands. I squint at it.
“What’s that?”
“Officer Asher left this for you. He said you lent it to him.”
“You saw him?”
Dad shakes his head. “He called me after you were brought here. Said he’d left the book on the shelf in here.”
He sets the battered copy of Dracula on my bed and I stare at it. There are tears in my eyes when I run a hand over the worn cover.
“Did he say anything else?” I whisper to Dad. He shakes his head.
“No—he just asked me to give this to you.”
I nod, feeling hollow. Slowly, I lift it up in my hands and open it to the title page. Maybe he left me a note—and explanation—something.
The paper is yellowed, but blank. Sighing, I flip through the pages. I’m almost to the end, when something catches my eye. At the bottom of one page, there’s a single sentence underlined twice in blue pen.
There are darknesses in life and there are lights, and you are one of the lights,
the light of all lights.
Then, beneath that, just above the page number, is a note written with that same pen.
I’m sorry.
S. A.
The tears are back. This time, the sheen of them has burst forth and I’m crying—really, truly sobbing. Dad’s hand is on my arm, and, for the first time in years, I wish I were able to crawl into his lap like a little girl.
But, instead, he holds my hand and strokes my skin, whispering that everything will be okay.
In all these years, through all our tragedies, this is the first time I think my dad’s ever lied to me.
And it’s the first time I’ve ever wanted him to.
Chapter Sixteen