Page 146 of The Fractured

None of it felt real. The words, the hospital, the fact that Sofia was somewhere beyond those doors…

I muffled a sob with my hand as fresh tears spilled down my cheeks.

Any emotion that was in Dean’s eyes slowly glazed over. There were tears and pain within them, but he was suddenly distant as he let the news sink in.

The surgeon recommended speaking with a counselor and asked gently if he wanted to view her later.

Dean backed off without a word, his eyes on the floor, unseeing, while his hands curled at his sides. He shook his head and went to speak, but nothing came.

“Can we—can we have a minute?” The words burned my throat.

The surgeon nodded solemnly and headed back through the doors.

I wrapped my arms around myself as the tears began to flow in heavy blobs, soaking my sleeves when I wiped them away.

Dean was leaning against the wall until he slowly sank to the floor. Tears tracked down his face, but his expression was almost blank.

“Tell me it’s not real,” he whispered, hugging his knees.

The helplessness of it all pained my heart.

His world had been shattered into a million pieces.

I joined him on the floor, and he took my hand, locking his fingers through mine like he expected to lose me next if he didn’t hold on tight enough.

Chapter 49

Dean

For years, I had mastered the art of shoving all the traumatic shit I was exposed to throughout my miserable life down inside me, but this?

Rage and raw emotion leaked through the giant hole carved into my chest.

I needed to focus, but my fucking thoughts — the memories, the what ifs, the last words I said to her — refused to cooperate. I couldn’t make them go away.

I couldn’t stop these fucking tears.

I was balancing on the edge, holding my shit together because completely losing it in a hospital conference room wouldn’t change what happened.

I knew who did it even if they hadn’t admitted it yet. It was too similar to Roxy’s death. The fire. The explosiveness of it. The damage was so profound that it would send shockwaves through Antonio’s business and his people. They didn’t care who got hurt along the way.

But I failed her.

“Dad’s here,” Lily said.

I didn’t bother looking away from the floor-to-ceiling window as the detective walked into the room. He organized the room so we had somewhere private to talk. And for him to offer his condolences.

I didn’t want to talk.

My eyes were fixed on the gloomy city. The sun was covered by a thick layer of cloud that was heavy with rain. And somewhere out there, Antonio’s kids were walking around like nothing happened.

Lily told Mark about the flower and the way it was left on my car, and who we thought left it.

If we had left the apartment earlier, I could’ve gotten her out.

“Did Gabriele know Lily’s name at all?” Mark asked.

“No,” I said firmly.