"When you've come to your senses, you can walk yourself out."
The engine roared to life. The headlights swept across my face, white and bloodless.
I watched that light shrink, smaller and smaller, until it vanished into the endless dark.
Damp. Cold. And the waves of sharp pain from the wound in my belly.
I lay facedown in the freezing mud, staring in the direction the taillights had disappeared.
The last remnant of something inside me, the thing I'd once called love, finally went out for good.
I lay curled beneath a massive exposed root, cold sweat soaking through the thin hospital gown.
The wound across my abdomen screamed with every movement, each shift tearing it open all over again.
When I was little, the bullies at the orphanage used to lock me in a pitch-black closet. That fear never left me.
I couldn't breathe. My heart hammered so hard it felt like it would burst out of my throat.
Giles knew. He knew all of it. He used to carry me on his back even on dark roads so I wouldn't be afraid.
I laughed—suddenly, out of nowhere—and the tears came while I was still laughing.