Chapter 4

"Give it back."

Ignoring the searing pain in my arm and hand, I kicked aside the blanket. My bare feet hit the cold hospital floor as I stretched out my bleeding left hand.

Julian kept it held high out of my reach.

He rolled the coarse red knot between his fingers, his eyes sweeping over the bracelet and then across my chalk-white face. For the first time, he saw raw panic in me.

"You've guarded this cheap piece of string like your life depended on it," Julian said, his tone devoid of warmth. "You wouldn't even let me touch it. Since Chloe's necklace is gone and you have no way to pay for it, this will do as collateral."

"It's not lost!" I shouted, my voice cracking with desperation. "She never lost it! This room is twenty feet square! Your men searched under the damn mattress! Where is the necklace?!"

"Are you accusing Chloe of framing you?" Julian’s last ounce of patience snapped.

He turned toward the window, unlocking the latch and shoving the heavy glass wide open.

We were on the twelfth floor. An icy gale surged into the room, whipping the frayed red cord violently back and forth between his fingers.

"Julian, stop!" My ears buzzed. I lunged forward, but the security guard tackled me back onto the mattress.

"Since you're still lying through your teeth, there's no reason to keep this," Julian said, holding his hand entirely outside the frame, his fingers loosening.

"Don't!!" A blood-curdling cry ripped from my throat. Tears blurred my eyes.

I watched that fragile red thread dancing in the freezing wind.

It was the only piece of my mother left in this world.

"Apologize," Julian demanded, his voice chillingly detached.

"I didn't steal it!" I gasped, shaking violently.

"I'm letting go," he warned, relaxing his grip another fraction.

"Stop! Okay! I'll apologize!" I broke. The fight evaporated from my bones.

I looked at Chloe, who stood safely tucked behind Julian’s broad frame, a smirk dancing on her lips.

The taste of copper surged up my esophagus.

"I'm sorry," I choked out, forcing every syllable past my cracked lips. "It's my fault. I shouldn't have upset you."

"A little louder. I can barely hear you," Chloe cooed with mock innocence.

"I'm sorry! I shouldn't have touched your things!" I squeezed my eyes shut, letting the hot tears spill over my cheeks. "I apologized. Now give it back."

Seeing me thoroughly broken, Julian finally looked satisfied.

He withdrew his hand, pulled the window shut, and turned to hand the cord back to me.

Leaning on the cold floor, I reached out with my trembling, bloody left hand.

Just as my fingertips were about to brush the red cotton—

Chloe let out a sudden squeal. She "tripped" on her hem, pitching forward and slamming her shoulder into Julian’s arm.

The cord slipped from his fingers, hitting the floor.

Chloe’s sharp stiletto heel came down with pinpoint accuracy right onto the center of the braid.

To "regain her balance," she twisted her foot, grinding the heel deep into the linoleum.

The fragile, aged fibers snapped.

The bracelet tore into three dirty, frayed shreds.

Dead silence fell over the room.

I stayed frozen on my knees, left arm outstretched, staring at the shredded threads coated in shoe grime.

"Oh! I'm so sorry, Summer! I didn't mean to!" Chloe gasped, stepping back and covering her mouth with performative horror.

I didn't say a word.

I dragged myself forward on my knees across the floor, gathering the three ruined pieces of cord into my palm.

The rough edges pressed into my skin.

I didn't feel any pain. Not anymore.

"It's just a string. What's done is done," Julian sighed, his voice carrying zero remorse, only dull irritation. "Chloe didn't do it on purpose. I'll buy you a brand-new gold bracelet tomorrow."

He turned and wrapped his arm around Chloe's waist.

"Rest up and heal your hand."

The door opened, then clicked shut.

Their footsteps faded down the corridor.

I sat alone on the cold floor.

I slowly opened my left hand, staring at the three dirty scraps of thread. Then I turned my head toward the small trash bin next to the nightstand.

I tipped my hand.

The red threads fluttered down into the dark bag.

Along with the girl named Summer Miller, who had foolishly given her heart away at eighteen.

The door burst open again.

Daniel rushed inside after ending his phone call. The moment his eyes caught the blood pooling on the floor and my vacant stare, his face turned terrifyingly dark.

I looked up at him, my eyes completely hollow.

"Daniel. I don't have anything left to pack. Let's go."