Page 11 of All the Forbidden Things

Callum stands.

Mel stares at me as a million and one thoughts hurtle through my brain.

“If that bitch has made any kind of allegations against—”

“Cal,” Mel snaps. “Let them speak.”

Callum folds his arms across his chest and glares.

“Max Young?” one of the policemen questions.

I nod, my eyes slicing from the policeman to Aaron for a cue.

Should I answer or remain silent? Are they about to arrest me for something Whitney has alleged I’ve done? Would she stoop that low? Are they here to take my daughter?

My mouth’s dry, my heartbeat reverberating throughout my chest. I can’t talk and can barely breathe as I wait for the next blow, the one to top off one of the shittiest days of my life, possibly ending me.

“Is there somewhere we can talk in private, Mr Young?”

I feel myself sway, but I don’t answer,can’tanswer.

Aaron introduces himself, speaking for me. “Aaron Cohen, Mr Young’s Lawyer. Can I ask what this is about?”

“Mr Young . . .”

I shake my head.

“You’re not Max Young?” The policeman narrows his eyes, frowning in confusion.

“No. I mean there’s nowhere private. Whatever you’ve got to say, you can say it here,” I finally manage to get out in a whisper.

He gives a small nod before continuing. “Sir, I’m Officer Brown, this is my colleague, Officer Cooper. We’re from RTPC, the Mets Transport Police. Can you please confirm for me that youareMax Young?” My eyes again flick to meet Aaron’s, and he gives an almost imperceptible nod.

“I am.”

“And that you are the husband and next of kin of Whitney Federov?”

I straighten my shoulders and prepare for the punch. “I am.”

“Sir, I regret to inform you that Ms Fedorov has been involved in a road traffic accident on the A406, North Circular, near Finchley, and had to be airlifted to the Royal Free. I believe someone from the hospital has been trying to reach . . .”

Nothing wants to work. My ears stop hearing, my lungs stop pulling air, my legs stop holding me, and my words won’t come. I slide down into the chair behind me, watching Aaron’s mouth move, but hearing nothing.

Both of the policemen respond to whatever Aaron’s saying, but my spike in blood pressure means all I can hear is the sound of my own heartbeat thumping inside my ears.

I feel cold. So fucking cold that I jump when Mel lays her warm hand over mine.

“You need to get to the hospital. Aaron and Cal will go with you. I’ll stay here with Layla.” Her words float towards me, penetrating my senses, quiet and muffled, as though wrapped in cotton wool.

“Is she alive?” I ask. Everyone in the room is looking at me. “My wife, is she alive?”

“Max, you need to get to the hospital. Whit’s alive, but she’s not in a good way. You need to go be there with her.”

“She left me,” I tell the room. I say the words out loud to no one, to everyone. To anyone who wants to listen.

“We’ll take it from here. Thanks, officers,” Aaron tells them.

My head clears, my hearing returns, and I watch as Aaron leads the officers out to the hallway that I passed out drunk in earlier.