Chapter 87

And that’s when I break down.

I’m wailing and sobbing uncontrollably. My face is red and my nose is running.

I’ve essentially collapsed and it’s a blessing I’m in the wheelchair, or I’d have fallen out onto the floor, or draped myself over Ansel, probably messing up all of his tubes and wires.

My heart feels like it has shattered.

Not shattered.

Exploded. Into squishy, bloody, pink pieces of pulverized tissue.

Doc comes in with a nurse.

“Karin, it’s okay,” Doc says.

I can’t speak. I can’t get words out. I’m still balling. They wheel me out into the hall.

Doc looks down at me. “I’m so sorry,” he says. “This is really hard.”

I nod slowly. I can barely breathe.

“I’m sorry,” I say. It comes out in a gasp. “I didn’t mean to make a scene.” I pull up the collar of my hospital gown and wipe my eyes and nose with it.

Doc put a hand on my shoulder.

“You’ve had a rough few days. You’re entitled to it.” He smiles and straightens the tie underneath his white coat.

With so much emotion spilled out, some of the pressure inside of me has been released. While I hate feeling so raw and torn, I also hate what I’m left with now.

It’s like a boulder sitting on my chest.

They want me back in my room. It feels wrong to leave Ansel, but I let the nurse take me back.

Waiting for me isn’t Joy. She’s been asked to sit out in the lobby.

It’s a detective who wants to interview me about what happened.

“Are you okay to do this,” my nurse asks. Her brown, curly hair is pulled back in a ponytail. She’s looking at me with raised eyebrows and I can tell she’ll kick out the cop if I just say the word.

‘I’m okay with it,” I say, instead. I’d rather get on with things… and keep my mind off of the Ansel I just saw in that room.

The detective asks to sit. She straightens the chair next to my bed so that she’s looking directly across at me - and maybe so I won’t see what she’s writing down.

“Can you please tell me your name and date of birth?”

“That’s the question of the day,” I say. We jump through the basics and get to the meat of it.

I tell her about the reporter - fake reporter - whoever she was, and then about Cherry and Blake.

She keeps her expression perfectly even. It’s probably hard to buy the ‘a princess abducted me’ story, and I’m not sure that she believes me.

Surprisingly, it’s not hard to recount it all, though. I thought it might be scary to think about it again, but as the words tumble out, I stay distant from it - removed. It’s almost like it happened to a different person, and I guess I am a different person, in a way.

“What happened after Sir Ansel pulled you back up,” she asks. Her voice is still flat.

“I don’t remember much after that,” I say, but now, I’m lying. My cheeks feel hot and my eyes start to get watery with tears.

She stops writing and looks at me. Her badge plate shines on her chest. “Anything you can remember may be helpful.”

I don’t want to tell her this part. This part doesn’t feel distant at all. It’s technicolor-vivid.

I remember the confusion and the pain in his eyes, as he asked me “why” and began to weep. The last time he looked at me like that, and the only other time I’ve seen him cry, I was getting in a car five years ago to leave him.

I’m haunted by this moment and by this echo from the past. I don’t want to tell her. I shake my head.

“I passed out after, I think.”

“Did you see, or hear, or smell anyone else there?”

“No,” I say. “As far as I knew, it was just the four of us there, until Ansel…”

“Did you hear the gunshots, or do you have any recollection -“

I shake my head again. “I wish I did. I didn’t know what happened to him. I had no idea he was hurt until I woke up here and they told me.”

The detective stands. “Thank you, Lady Karin. I’ll be in touch.”

Joy joins me after. We eat dinner together. I don’t say much. She looks at my wrists sometimes. Her questions hang in the air.

I feel tired, which seems funny, given that they’ve told me I was comatose and slept for three days.

It’s one of the many fun facts I learned about my almost-demise from the nursing staff, who keep reminding me I’m a miracle.

“I should let you get some rest,” Joy says. She stacks her dishes on top of mine and pushes my table and food tray away.

I pull up my blanket to my chest.

“Can you…”

“What,” she asks.

“I think I’m ready. For the other details,” I say. “What you said you needed to fill me in on.”

“Yeah,” she says. “Okay.” She sits back down next to me.

I briefly tell her what happened to me first. Her expression is pure horror.

“Oh my goddess,” she says.

I wave my hand. “I just wanted to tell you, so you’d know where my gaps are,” I say.

“Well, I - I’m glad you told me regardless of the reason. It’s all so scary, Karin. I knew something had happened to you. You wouldn’t just disappear - and I could smell the woman who came inside.”

I can’t help but feel embarrassed. “I think that was a side effect of not having Ada. Although, I - I haven’t always made the right decisions with her, either.”

Like listening to Ethan.

“Who has? Werewolf or otherwise, I mean.” She crosses her leg and begins tapping the same foot. “It’s partly my fault. Ansel, I mean.”

I crinkle my forehead.

“The police said you hadn’t been gone long enough for them to do anything. I didn’t know what to do, so I… I told him what happened. That’s when he went to look for you.”

“This is not your fault,” I say.

She looks down and bites her lip. “Well, after that, I only know what’s been on the news, from Doc, or in the rumor mill. Someone made a phone call, anonymously, for medical help. It’s all kind of a series of good luck, in the middle of the worst luck.”

Funny how life works.

“They were, literally, just down the road,” Joy says, “And when they got there, you were both, basically, dead.” Joy’s eyes well up. “Nobody knew what happened. Maybe it was some kind of Romeo and Juliet thing, and some people were, of course, spewing all over the internet that it was a murder-suicide - Ansel, being the murderer.”

Joy’s brow furrows in anger. “Anyway, I guess they could tell enough, medically, that it ruled that crap out. So, that didn’t last long, thankfully. There’s a hunt for the person who shot him, and the King’s furious, of course.”

Joy smooths her hair behind her ears. “He missed that interview he was supposed to do. But now, everyone’s jumped back on the Ansel-bandwagon. The NBI hasn’t cleared him for Dr. Wood’s death yet, but his poll numbers are insanely high.” She rolls her eyes.

“I guess something’s gone right,” I say. The words are empty. None of it matters.

“It pisses me off,” Joy says. “You have to get shot to win the public’s opinion now? And what’s really sick about it is - all of this outcry over Ansel supposedly plotting a murder, is what caused all of this. That’s what the news is speculating, anyway - that of these crazed lunatics probably went after him.”

The boulder on my chest seems to get heavier.

At the look on my face, Joy stops. “I’m sorry, Karin,” she says. She uncrosses her legs. “I’ve talked too much.”

“It’s okay,” I say.

She hugs me and leaves soon after.

I want to sleep, but Ada won’t settle down. She’s picking up on something with Ansel.

I beg, plead, and finally, threaten, but they won’t let me see him again.

I lay awake for most of the night, praying he’ll make it.