Each day, Calla and her fragile heart are that little bit closer to death... but before she goes she'll prove to the world the boy she loves is no murderer.
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With a life steeped in wealth and privilege, Calla Pierce should be protected from t...
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Time passes achingly slowly when you're in a hospital room. My body heals, but my mind takes longer. I feel raw. Like every light is too bright, every sound is an earthquake. Days pass but I'm still here. My body will never truly heal - I will be on drugs for the rest of my life to stop my body from rejecting the heart. Larissa's heart. I have a future. One that I'm not sure I ever expected to have, one I think I'd stopped believing in a long time ago and now... the only person I want to share it with is gone.
My family has been here in some form every day. They've created some kind of routine that they've all sunk into like tepid bathwater. Dad or Alice sitting beside me, Mum or Mari curled up in the chair at the back. The twins appear in flashes. They're excitable forms considered too much for me. But I enjoy the distraction their chaos brings.
When I open my eyes, the grogginess of sleep fading, Dad is silent, staring at his phone, but I'm not sure he's really seeing the screen. I hear him tapping, hear Mum's gentle snoring from the back of the room. I start to pull myself up and he sees the movement, dashing forward and adjusting my pillow. The scar down my chest still burns, each move tugs on the flesh. It's a constant reminder, and I hate that.
"Hey, take it easy." Dad's voice is gruff. He watches me sternly as he settles back into his seat. We haven't really talked. Hadn't really had the chance. Not between doctors, nurses, and visitors. He swallows hard, and I know he has questions. I know I do.
"I need you to tell me everything. Everything you know, everything that happened."
I blink slowly. My tired body still made everything feel a little slow. My thoughts a little groggy.
"What will happen to Owen?"
His face hardens.
"We'll talk about that later. For now, I want you to tell me..."
"No... we'll talk about it now."
"Calla..." He barks, but I just sink deeper into the bed.
"I have all the time in the world. It's not like I'm going anywhere for a while." I turn away from him, my eyes drawn to the small square window. Just a square of ice-white sky. No sense of place, no sense of the city below.
He hisses under his breath, and I turn back. He glances around the room. Finally, he groans and leans forward till his elbows are on his knees.
"Owen has been charged with Damien's murder. He'll be on remand until the trial." My stomach tightens. The thought of Owen going through this alone makes everything in me turn cold.
"You mean he's already in prison? And how long until the trial?"
"Varies. But it could take up to a year."
A whimper escapes my lips, and I wipe away the first sign of a tear in my eyes. I lean against my pillow, closing my eyes. Had I really thought I could save him? That I could keep him from harm?
