Page 85 of Behind These Four Walls
The figure looks at me, and recognition hits us both. Relief floods me because I don’t have to do it alone anymore. There is help. There is no more Bennett and his friends. “Hospital,” I say. “Please.”
Surprise crosses their face as they take me in, assessing the condition of my body.
We both look to the woods when my name is again called. And then a second time. A third. And a fourth. The figure recognizes the owner of that voice. And those of the other three that follow.
We refocus on each other.
Their face blurs again as their hands roam my pockets. Luck is with them like it isn’t with me, and they find the recorder that has been running the whole time. The one that’s recorded Danny admitting the truth about the accident they lied about.
The figure never answers me.
Instead of helping me up and guiding me to the car, the figure slides their hands down my side.
“Don’t!” I say, trying to stop their hands with mine. There is no hospital around. This will kill me.
They hesitate, but only for a moment, because the surprise and what I thought was concern shift to resignation. And then determination finally takes over, and any consideration for me is wiped into a blank, unreadable mask.
The hovering figure sighs like the weight of the world rests on their shoulders. Many unspoken answers hang in that sound, making everything perfectly clear, making everything final.
My desperate call for help is replaced by the only horrid sound I can make when the figure grabs ahold of the glass shard and—
Chapter Sixty-Three
Isla
Present Day
The recorder continued with nothing but static filling the air until it shut off, leaving Eden’s last words hanging in the air. No matter how many times Isla heard them, each time was a deeper twist of the knife. She imagined horrible images of what Eden had gone through, of how her best friend had suffered.
Outside the doors, Victor’s reception went on without its guest of honor while the room descended into chaos.
“What kind of joke is this?” Victor began, searching one face and then another for answers no one wanted to give. “What is that?”
“It’s bullshit is what it is,” Bennett barked. “I’m going to kick your ass out personally.” He charged at Isla, but Myles was quicker.
Myles growled, shoving Bennett back. “Back up.”
“Get off,” Bennett yelled, launching a wild punch at Myles. Myles parried it easily and delivered his own. Bennett reeled back from the blow.
“Bennett!” Brooke cried, lunging for her son as Dixon pulled Myles off him.
“Myles,” Dixon said forcefully. It was the first time he’d acted without Victor giving a command. She saw a flash of his holstered gun under his tux jacket.
Brooke helped Bennett to his feet and tried to stanch the blood running down his face. He snatched his head away.
“What the hell was that for?” Bennett growled at Myles. “Don’t tell me you believe this concocted shit.” His mouth said one thing, but his eyes said another. He was terrified. This was something he could not hide.
Myles growled. “I can’t believe you could do this. Edie was our sister. Oursister, man!”
Brooke stood between them, shielding her son. Bennett shrugged his mother off, declaring everything was a setup.
“Don’t believe it, Dad,” Bennett implored a thunderstruck Victor. “It’s a lie. It’s fake.”
Brooke hushed him, knowing when to back off. “Quiet,” Brooke said urgently. “You’re bleeding. Just wait.”
The other day, Brooke had practically danced when she’d toppled Isla in front of everyone with Charli. She was singing a different tune now. She looked downright terrified, Isla thought with satisfaction.
Isla expected them to leave. She kept silent as Jackson slipped out too. To regroup. To tie up their loose ends—and Isla would be there to catch them.