Page 127 of Rapunzel Is Losing It

People flooded the octagon and Victor shoved all of them away, twisting, eyes searching, until they found me. A perfect, secret, small Victor-smile stole its way onto his lips as he started towards my side of the cage. And then he stopped moving. His fall wasn’t like Silver’s, all momentum and pain. Victor’s entire body went slack as if someone had flipped a switch. He dropped. Lifeless. Blood trickling from the cut on his brow.

One hit in the head. That’s all it would take.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Whoever claimed dying waspeaceful was a fucking liar. It was being poked and prodded. It was sirens. It was people screaming. Dying was pain. It was your muscles burning and your bones splintering while you were stuck in darkness. Or maybe that was already purgatory, because the burn ended, and then everything fell silent.

You didn’t get to see life flash by one last time.

Your brain didn’t trick you into thinking your loved ones were waiting in the light. Nobody was waiting for you when you died. Nobody went through it with you.

Dying meant leaving her behind.

Dying sucked.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Living smelledlike coconut and oranges. Living smelled like Cordelia. It felt like her, too. Like her fingertips tracing patterns across my skin, like her lips pressed against my mouth, and her hair tickling my collar bone as her body curved around mine.

Living was fucking perfect.

“Victor?” Cordelia’s breathing trembled.

I blinked against the bright light and blurry shapes. My eyes didn’t focus. Cordelia was next to me, but only in streaks of colors. Outlined by the glow of a window, golden hair like a halo around her form.

“Zhizn-” My voice crumbled like old stone.

“It’s okay, don’t speak. Your throat might be sore from the intubation.”

Her fingers brushed over my cheek and I jerked back. I hadn’t seen her touch coming.

“Sorry, sorry, are you in pain?” She fumbled around beside me, but I couldn’t make out what she was holding. “I’ll call the nurse.”

“I…” I swallowed against the burn in my throat. Intubation. Nurse. They’d gotten me to a hospital. Cordelia was at the hospital. I had ended the fight and I’d gone down anyway, and Cordelia was at the hospital where I had been intubated, and she was calling a nurse, and I couldn’t see her. I couldn’t make sure she was okay. I couldn’t-

“Calm down. Breathe,” Cordelia whispered, barely audible over some incessant beeping. “You need to calm down, Victor. You’re alright. You’re alright, I promise. And I’m fine. I’m not hurt.”

“I can’t-”

“Ah, I see Mr. Montgomery has woken up, yes? That’s very good. Beautiful.” A woman with a thick French accent said, but I couldn’t make out her shape, her bright orange hair and blue clothes, until she stood right next to Cordelia’s shape. “Mr. Montgomery, can you understand me?”

Mister Montgomery?

Cordelia squeezed my hand.

“Yes,” I rasped.

“Perfect. Can you tell me how many fingers I’m holding up?” She raised her hand. I saw that much. There were shadows. Shapes. Maybe a ring glinting in the light. Three fingers. Four. Or maybe all of them. “Can you count them for me?”

Cordelia squeezed my hand again when I didn’t reply.

“I can’t see.”

“Okay. No need to worry. I will get the doctor.”

Cordelia waited until the nurse was gone before she spoke. “I’m sorry. I told them you’re my husband. Otherwise theywouldn’t have let me stay. They wouldn’t have given me any information. I couldn’t let you get brain surgery and wait in some hotel nearby. So you’re Mr. Montgomery now. If it makes you feel any better, even the Parisians know my family by name, so everyone’s been giving you the very best of care. I bet you’ll even get the red jell-o, not the green one.”

She was rambling. I tried to follow her train of thought, but my own mind was still sluggish.