Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 100818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
“Cas—” A cough rattled from Mom’s lips, cutting off my name with the horrific sound.
I watched, frozen in place while she tried to finish her words, as she tried to say my name. But nothing came out. She was too weak to speak. Her mouth opened again. Another failed attempt. Her frail arms lifted to grasp me.
“Help her, Cassius.” My sister’s voice cracked, cutting through the fog and making me look toward her. Her eyes, normally lit with happiness, had dulled. Replaced by a haunted expression, as if their light had extinguished. “Please,” she pleaded with me.
It took a minute to understand what was happening. The remnants of shock lingered far too long, but then I moved into action.
My hands reached out, trying desperately to scoop up my mother. Trying to bring her to safety. But she was too heavy. Too resistant to move. She settled in my arms, her chest rising and falling fast. I watched her struggle to breathe, each inhalation drawn out and painful.
Her breaths came out ragged.
She was choking.
Scarlet seeped out the sides of her mouth as she swallowed and gagged, gasping for life.
Caught in a flash flood of panic, I dropped beside her, staying with her. Blood coated my hands. Its metallic scent saturated everything. The bright red from her mouth darkened, and a fresh crimson followed in its place.
She isn’t going to make it.
“Stay awake!” I pleaded. “Stay with us.”
“So tired.” Her eyelids fluttered.
“Don’t close your eyes. Don’t give up.”
Hoisting up her blouse, my hands scrambled beneath the sopping wet silk. My fingers tangled with my sister’s as we struggled to stem the flow of red. I applied pressure to the puckered wound, trying to stop the flow, pressing my palm hard against the gape. I fought against the oozing. It came out thick, fast, and endless around my hand. Blood ebbed against my fingers for a few seconds, then seeped through in a strong current with no dam.
“Who shot her?” I asked Sofia. The sound of Mom’s wheezing echoed around us, but Sofia didn’t need to answer. I knew. “Who?” My voice strained, ragged and hoarse. Unfamiliar. No longer my own. It belonged to a boy about to lose everything.
“Tell me,” I pleaded with Mom.
Tell me who did this!
“Glass—” She coughed a spray. Red rivulets trickled out between her lips and soaked her chin, her throat, down and onward until it met the dirt, pooling there. Her complexion had turned pale. A dusky hue.
Glassman.
My own chest tightened knowing it was my fault. I hadn’t prevented this.
I wiped away the stain of blood that soaked her face and trailed her jaw.
“Get help!” I yelled at my sister, pointing toward the house.
She shook her head, frantic. “We can’t go that way.”
Mom’s hand grasped my sleeve. “Cas.”
She was bleeding out, dying in my arms, and there was nothing I could do about it.
“I’ll go,” I told my sister.
“No.” Mom’s grip held me fast.
“Mom, we have to move you.” My voice was firm. Commanding.
“Can’t.” Her gaze tore into me.
I placed my hands behind Mom’s back, and moved her upright to try to keep her awake. I needed to keep her alive until my father or one of his men came to help us.
Mom’s eyelids flickered open and squinted. Failing to see. She took a breath as if she was summoning the last of her strength to speak to me. “T-take your sister. K-keep her safe.”
“I’m keeping you both safe,” I bit out through gritted teeth.
“No.” She shook her head. “T-there isn’t time.”
“I won’t leave you.”
“It’s too late for me. . .” she wheezed. “Your father. . .”
My eyes darted to look at Sofia. What was she saying? Mom was delirious. That was what this was. . .confusion from the blood loss.
Mouth bone-dry, I asked, “Where’s Dad?”
Sofia shook her head. Unable to speak. Unable to say what I knew in my gut.
“Please. . .” Mom implored. “Save”—she swallowed hard—“your sister.”
“Mom, please!” Sofia begged. Her face was ashen.
“Go,” Mom pleaded. “They-they will find—” Her voice broke on a cough.
“Mom, I’m going to carry you to the chapel.” But as I spoke those words, I knew she couldn’t bear it.
Refusing to believe this bitter truth, I tried to lift her again.
She cried out.
I couldn’t bear the agony in her voice. The pain.
No, I won’t say goodbye. Not like this. Not here in the dirt. Not when it was just my sister and me. She needed the best care, and she deserved the best doctors. She deserved to live. She deserved for us to fight.
“Mom. . .”
Her eyes fluttered open, and when she stared at me with that knowing look, I lost my will to speak. She grasped my hand with a strength I didn’t know she had left in her.
“P-protect y-your sister.” She tried to force a smile, but winced. Hers closed on a deep inhale. “She’s all you have now.”