Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 68576 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68576 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
“I think,” Atlas said softly, “that maybe I was choosing the wrong sister this entire time.”
His words sent a thrill streaking through me.
“Of course she sways you to her side,” she whipped her head in my direction, narrowing her eyes at me. “I had one friend, bitch. One. And you couldn’t even let me have that?”
I didn’t say anything, because what would be the point? She always had to have the last word. She always played the victim card. And she always, always, always found a way to turn it around on me if I did say something.
I’d learned a long time ago to just keep my mouth shut when it came to her.
She’d eventually let it go.
“Mr. Carter?”
Atlas turned, leaving the both of us behind.
“This isn’t over,” my sister hissed.
I shrugged and turned my back on her, very aware that it would only piss her off more.
When I arrived at Atlas’s side, the social worker turned to me, offering me her hand.
“You’re his girlfriend?” she asked sweetly.
I opened my mouth to deny it, but Atlas spoke over me. “She is.”
I shot him a look that had him catching my hand and squeezing.
“Awesome, stability is a great thing.” She looked at Atlas. “So I know that you and Forest look alike. Y’all have the same features and birthmarks. And before Ms. Cline left, she so helpfully shared that you were the baby’s father. However, a DNA test will still have to be performed, which we can expedite. In the meantime, we’re going to allow you access to the child.”
I practically felt Atlas wilt beside me. “Thank you.”
“He’s going to be scared, because he won’t know who you are when he finally wakes up,” she said. “But I’ll let the doctor talk to you about the specifics of that. As with anything like this, an investigation will be run. We’ll look at Ms. Cline’s history, and determine whether she will be able to have the boy back or not.”
She continued to tell us the next steps, leaving it at, “He’s a cutie, Mr. Carter. We’ll talk to you soon.”
The woman left just as the doctor arrived.
“Mr. Carter,” the doc said. “My name is Doctor Morton. I’m the physician handling your son’s case.”
“Thanks,” Atlas shook the doctor’s hands. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”
He gave a lot of medical jargon I didn’t understand, ending with, “He’ll be in a medically induced coma while we monitor his condition.”
“But you think he’ll be okay?” I asked when Atlas didn’t say anything.
“We think he should be okay,” he admitted. “But only time will really tell.”
Meaning, they didn’t know.
Not until he was awake and able to show us how he was doing himself.
“Thank you, doctor,” I said. “And where are they taking him?”
Fifteen minutes later we were in the pediatric ICU. I was on a couch next to Atlas, and we were looking at Atlas’s son, hooked up to all kinds of wires and tubes, lying like a broken doll in the bed across from us.
“I feel helpless,” Atlas whispered brokenly.
He’d stood by his side for a full ten minutes and had just now taken a seat beside the bed.
Atlas was still leaning forward and holding the little boy’s hand.
His little boy’s hand.
I didn’t know what to say. Nothing that could come out of my mouth would give him the reassurance he needed right now.
The only thing that would was time.
I was lost in thought, wondering how all of this had happened to someone so innocent, when Atlas’s voice interrupted me.
“Tell me everything you can about Sage.”
I snorted. “How long do you have?”
He looked at the little boy lying asleep in the hospital bed, looking so freakin’ small. “A while.”
So I told him everything.
I told him about my sister turning into a monster. I told him about everything that she’d done to me—that I could remember anyway. I told him about my mother’s cancer, and my dad’s dementia. I told him about what I suspected where it came to the ‘kidnapping’ of Sage.
I told him about me.
I told him about my brothers.
I told him about my nieces and nephews. I told him about the dog that I was fairly sure Sage stole and sold.
By the time I was through, my voice was slightly hoarse from talking so much.
When I was finally done, not able to think of a single thing more—though I was more than aware there was a whole lot that I’d either blocked out or missed—I turned to survey the man sitting in the seat beside me.
He looked… blank.
There wasn’t a single expression on his face.
“That’s all I can think of,” I admitted. “There’s more, I’m sure. But yeah…”
What I’d told him was enough.
“There’s a lot to address there…” he finally stated.
I’ll never understand why Ariel didn’t just grab a pen and a piece of paper and tell Eric that Ursula stole her voice.