Page 18 of Fallen Empire (The Fallen Trilogy #2)

Millie

I didn’t break promises.

Not to other people, but especially not to myself.

I knew it wasn’t going to be long before the world Ben and I built would spiral out of control. And before that happened, I made myself a promise:

Tell Savannah my story.

Not all of it. Not yet.

But enough for her to know she wasn’t alone.

Part of me hoped she’d offer something back. Open that guarded heart of hers and tell me hers, too. But even if she didn’t, that was okay.

I wasn’t cracking open Pandora’s box.

I was just lifting the lid.

Letting her peek inside.

“Do you really want the coffee?” I asked, already knowing the answer. It was hot, and she didn’t drink hot coffee. But if she wanted iced, I’d have the boys bring one back.

“Honestly, yeah.”

“Okay. Want me to put some ice on this one and have them bring you a fresh one?”

“I’m not sure. Think it’s safe for me to drink one?”

“Probably not. But it’s not exactly safe to put yourself in the crosshair of a lunatic, and you did that. So what’s a little caffeine going to hurt?”

I smiled.

She’d catch the hint that I was a little pissed at her. But she also knew I wouldn’t stay mad long. And she was right.

“Ugh. Not you too. I’ve already heard it from Jaxson.”

“Yeah, well. That’s it. I just had to get one jab in.” I held up the coffee Jaxson hadn’t even bothered to take after she said she wanted it. Typical.

“Just give it to me hot. Maybe it’ll help my throat or something.”

She had to be in pain if she was settling for hot coffee. I passed her the cup, but when she didn’t lift a hand for it, I waited.

“Oh, shit. Sorry. Let me grab a straw, I’ll help you with it.”

“It sucks being helpless.”

“You’re recovering well.”

“So, tell me what’s on your mind,” she said. “I know you didn’t kick them out for nothing.”

I let out a deep sigh, grabbing the straw and lifting the cup to her mouth. She looked like she was hanging on by a thread, and here I was handing her caffeine like it wouldn’t undo everything the doctors just fixed. She still had an oxygen tube in, for fuck’s sake.

The door creaked open, and I was ready to snap at whoever it was—

Until I saw the nurse.

“What’s that you’re giving her? That better be water.” She scolded me like I was a damn child.

Might as well act like one.

“Sure. It’s water.” I avoided her eyes like I was back in high school getting caught sneaking out.

She didn’t believe me.

Disappointment was smeared all over her face like she’d expected better.

“It’s just a few sips,” I said quickly. “She smelled the coffee and honestly… it would probably be soothing. She sounds like she’s been chain-smoking for decades. That’s not normal.”

“Yeah, well, neither is giving someone on a ton of meds and barely stable a full cup of caffeine while they’re flat on their back.”

She was right.

And I hated that someone besides me was right.

Still, I tilted the straw down toward Savannah’s lips, giving her the option to take a few sips before Nurse No-Fun had a full-blown coronary.

She rolled her eyes, but let us sneak a few sips in.

Savannah didn’t hesitate. And when she closed her eyes, savoring the warm liquid trickling down her throat, I was genuinely thankful the nurse wasn’t a total ass.

“Okay, Ms. Sinclair, I’m Nurse Ruth. I’ll be taking care of you today,” she said, pulling a pen from behind her ear and pulling her clipboard out. “Tell me, on a scale of one to ten, how is your pain right now?”

I looked to Savannah.

She hesitated.

“Four.”

“Bullshit.” The word flew out of my mouth before I could stop it. “You can’t even lift your arm. Tell her the truth.”

“I can’t lift my arm because there are tubes covering them. Not because it hurts.”

I squinted at her, narrowing my eyes. “Fine.” Two can play this game. I turned my attention to Nurse Ruth. “Can we move the tubes?”

“Afraid not,” she said without missing a beat—like the kind of woman who didn’t like being questioned.

“She’s going to stay on the IVs and oxygen at least until lunch.

Then I may consider giving her a little breathing room.

But if the two of you keep indulging in drinks and foods she shouldn’t have, I’ll make her wait longer. ”

Shit. She wasn’t bluffing.

Savannah’s stomach roared , as if the mere mention of food woke something feral inside her.

“Savannah, dear, are you hungry?” Nurse Ruth asked. This woman was like a damn roller coaster. Sweet and caring one moment—and the next, I was convinced she’d jab that clipboard straight into someone’s throat if they dared to cross her.

“I guess I am. Can I try eating something?” Savannah asked hopefully.

“Absolutely!” I answered before Ruth could cut in. “Anything you want, what do you feel like having?”

I never saw the pen flying until it smacked me in the face.

“What the—”

“Did you not hear a word I just said?” Ruth snapped. “No. I will get her something she can have. You can’t just go giving her whatever she wants unless you’re willing to clean up the mess when she pukes it all over the floor.”

She didn’t even pause for breath. “How do you think her body’s going to feel when she’s dry-heaving bile on top of her ribs being broken?”

I hated Nurse Ruth.

But instead of saying that, and risking getting stabbed with a tongue depressor or God knows what else, I sat back and shut my mouth.

Something I really didn’t fucking like.

I cut my eyes to Savannah, and the huge grin on her face was all it took to pull one onto mine.

My soulmate was alive. She was talking. She was smiling. And for a brief, fleeting moment, all was right in the world again.

“I can get you some soft foods for now,” Nurse Ruth said, checking Savannah’s vitals without missing a beat. “Jell-O or applesauce. Something light. What would you like?”

“All of the above,” Savannah replied without hesitation.

I couldn’t help but laugh. My smart-ass best friend was back. Even if she was still hiding how much pain she was in, I could see pieces of her shining through.

Nurse Ruth just shook her head and turned to leave, but we both knew she’d come back with options. She’d played tough, sure, but that woman had a soft spot for Savannah Sinclair, just like the rest of us.

It was hard not to be inspired by someone who was supposed to be six feet under and still came back swinging.

Savannah leaned back against the pillow, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment as the weight of everything settled over her again. I let her rest in that silence—not the heavy, grieving kind, but the kind that only exists between soul-deep friends. The kind that holds space without filling it.

I stayed quiet, letting the hum of the machines speak for me while I worked up the nerve to do what I’d promised.

She needed to hear my story.

And maybe I needed to tell it.

“I was fourteen the first time I heard the words public image used like a threat,” I said softly, still watching her.

Her eyes opened, brows tugging slightly. She didn’t speak. Just listened.

“My mom cheated on my dad. He was the CEO of Pierman Media at the time. Big company. Big money. Big expectations. And even bigger egos.” I forced a bitter smile.

“When she left, she didn’t just leave him .

She left me . Took a settlement and vanished.

And suddenly, I wasn’t just some kid dealing with her mother’s betrayal… I was a headline waiting to happen.”

Savannah blinked slowly. Her fingers twitched on the blanket, as if she could feel the shift in me.

“My dad spiraled,” I continued. “Whiskey and silence became his two best friends. And mine? Mine was control. Image. Fixing the cracks so no one could see we were shattered beneath the surface. I stepped in. I covered for him. Took on client meetings before I could legally drive. Played the part of the perfect daughter with perfect grades and a perfect press-ready smile.”

My voice caught for a second, but I didn’t stop.

“I learned how to hide the mess. How to spin a lie into something beautiful. And eventually, how to make other people’s secrets disappear. That’s how I built the company. Built this life. One that looked clean enough from the outside to forget how dirty it felt on the inside.”

Savannah’s gaze was locked on mine now. No pity. No judgment. Just that quiet understanding that only comes from someone who knows exactly what it means to be shattered and smiling at the same time.

“I didn’t share this for sympathy,” I said, brushing my palms against my thighs like I could scrub the memory off. “I shared it because you need to know that I see you. Not the version the world sees. You. ”

Her throat worked as she swallowed. “And you think that version is worth loving?”

“I think,” I said, leaning forward, “that version is the only one that ever was.”

Savannah took a deep breath and looked past me. I let the silence linger.

“I don’t think my parents loved each other,” she said finally. “They loved me in their own ways, but not each other.”

She paused, then quietly asked, “Could you hold some water up to me, please?”

“Yes, of course.”

I lifted the cup and brought the straw to her lips. She drank until it was empty, gulping like it was the first thing that didn’t taste like pain.

“More?” I asked gently.

She shook her head, and I set the cup down. I didn’t press her, just waited.

“I loved Bruce the only way I knew how,” she said. “We worked in silence. We showed up at events. Just like my parents did. I thought that was how love worked. Not this picture-perfect fantasy where two people can’t keep their hands off each other.”

She let out a soft laugh, but winced a little at the movement.

“The day I found out my parents had died was the day everything changed. When the police left… he smiled.” Her voice cracked. “I was on my knees, praying it wasn’t true. And he just—smiled.”

I wanted to reach for her, but I knew if I interrupted, she might shut down.