Page 37 of A Convenient Secret

My legs move before I even fully comprehend what the sound is. After two knocks—insistent but careful not to wake my kids—I turn the doorknob as another strangled cry seeps through the air.

I turn the handle, cursing myself for telling her to lock it. But the door gives way easily. She didn’t lock it.She didn’t.

“Lily, I’m coming in.” Adrenaline pumps through my veins.

The lamp beside the bed is on, and I immediately see Lily thrashing on the bed, chanting, “No, please, no.”

Fuck. A nightmare. I approach her gingerly. My kids usually wake up from their bad dreams. Should I wake her? Or is that a bad thing? No, that’s more dangerous with sleepwalkers. Or?

In a millisecond, my mind also offers other useless trains of thought before I finally put my hands on her bare shoulders. “Lily, wake up. It’s just a dream. Lily.”

A wail leaves her small body before she lunges at me, and piercing pain sears through my arm.

“Oh my God.” Lily stares at me, eyes wide. “Declan?” Her face fills with horror.

My head spins a little; it’s like the adrenaline is pumping and wearing off at the same time. A strange, wet warmth spreads down my arm. My mind scrambles to catch up with my body’s signals.

The burn. The throb. The pulsing sting.

“Jesus Christ,” I hiss, instinctively gripping my biceps. The pain is hot enough to make my vision blur for a beat.

“Declan—oh my God—oh no, no, no!” Lily’s voice rises, breathless and panicked, as she scrambles back against the headboard, her hands flying up to cover her mouth.

Her eyes dart from my arm to my face and back again, wide and glassy with horror. “I didn’t… I didn’t know—it was—oh no, no, no… Are you okay? I… Oh God, you’re bleeding.”

Bleeding? I glance down. My hand is slick, crimson seeping down my forearm. The sight of the blood feels surreal, like I’m watching someone else’s arm. What the hell just happened?

“Shit,” I mutter, pressing my palm harder against a wound I can’t explain. “What’s going on?”

Her hands fly to her hair, yanking it into fists as she stammers, “I-I didn’t mean to—I swear to God… I thought… I thought you were—I-I’m so sorry… So, so sorry… Oh no, Declan, you’re hurt… What do I do? What do I do?”

“Just stop talking,” I snap.

She plasters her hand over her mouth, shaking. Fuck. Despite the sudden onset of nausea and a mother-fucking level of pain, I feel guilty about scaring her.

“The kids are sleeping.” My voice is hoarse, caught somewhere between a warning and disbelief. I don’tknow if it’s the blood loss or her rambling, but the pieces don’t fit.

“I didn’t know it was you!” she cries, her words tripping over each other. “I-I was having a dream—no, a nightmare… And then I woke up, and you were there, and I thought… Oh God! I didn’t mean to… I just… I’m so sorry, Declan!”

Her voice breaks at my name, her hands trembling as she fumbles toward me like she wants to help, but is too afraid to touch me.

The bed creaks under her shifting weight, and for a moment she’s just staring at me, her mouth opening and closing like she’s trying to find the right words to undo whatever just happened.

The pain throbs again, cutting through my haze. I take a step back, blood still seeping through my fingers. “But—” My words stall as my gaze lands on the bed.

A knife. A small, gleaming blade glints in the lamplight, its edge stained dark red.

I exhale sharply, a bitter laugh escaping despite myself. “You stabbed me?”

Chapter 8

Lily

Igasp, my hand flying back to my mouth. “No… Yes. I mean, yes, but not on purpose! I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean to… I… You need a doctor. Do you need stitches? I think you need stitches. I’m such an idiot. I’m so, so sorry.”

Fuck. I’m babbling again, my voice high-pitched and breathless as I try to make sense of the chaos.

“Pull yourself together. I don’t want the kids to find us like this.” Declan glares at me, blood dripping down his arm. “You sleep with a knife?”