Chapter 109: Safe

Cecilia

Max moved immediately, and Arthur looked down at me again, his eyes searching my face with an intensity that made everything else in the room fade away. "Ceci, if you can hear me, squeeze my hand."

I managed it, barely, my fingers tightening weakly around his.

"Good," he murmured, and I heard the relief crack through his voice. "That's good. Stay with me, okay? Just stay with me."

The next hour passed in fragments—Dr. Morrison's cool hands checking my pulse while Arthur's warm ones held me steady. Through it all, Arthur's arms stayed around me, solid and unshakeable, the only thing keeping me tethered to reality.

Dr. Morrison worked quickly and quietly, his movements efficient as he examined me. I felt him check my pupils, take my pulse, ask Arthur questions about what I'd consumed. Arthur answered each one with precision, his voice steady despite the tension radiating through his body.

"Rohypnol, most likely," Dr. Morrison said finally, his voice grim. "Or something similar. She'll need blood work to confirm, but the symptoms match. The good news is she's coherent enough to respond to stimuli, which means the dose wasn't massive."

"The bad news?" Arthur's voice was tight, controlled in a way that meant he was barely holding himself together.

"She's going to feel like hell for the next twelve to twenty-four hours. Disorientation, nausea, memory gaps. And there may be some psychological trauma to work through once the drug wears off."

Arthur's jaw clenched, and I felt his arms tighten around me fractionally. "What can we do? What does she need?"

"Fluids, rest, time." Dr. Morrison's expression softened slightly as he looked at Arthur. "And you. Keep talking to her, keep her engaged. Don't let her slip too deep into sleep until we're sure the drug has mostly metabolized. I'll set up an IV to help flush her system."

I watched through heavy-lidded eyes as the doctor set up the IV drip, Arthur's hand never leaving mine even as Dr. Morrison worked. The clear tube ran from my arm to the bag hanging beside the bed, and Arthur's gaze tracked every drop that fell with the kind of focus that suggested he was counting each one.

When Dr. Morrison finally left with quiet instructions to call if anything changed, it was just Arthur and me alone in our bedroom. The sounds of the police investigation filtered up faintly from below—voices, footsteps, the occasional crackle of a radio—but they felt distant, like something happening in another world.

"Ceci." His voice was soft, careful, like he was afraid of startling me. "Can you talk yet?"

I tried. My mouth formed the shape of words, but nothing came out except a small, broken sound that made his expression crack open with something that looked like pain.

"It's okay," he murmured, pulling me closer against his chest. "You don't have to talk. Just—just let me hold you, okay? Let me know you're here."

I pressed my face against his chest and cried, silent sobs that shook my whole body, and he held me through all of it.

"You're safe," he said, over and over, like a prayer or a promise or both. "I've got you. You're safe. I'm not letting go."

Eventually, exhaustion pulled me under despite my best efforts to stay awake, and I felt myself sinking into something heavy and dark.

But even in sleep, I could feel Arthur's presence—his arms around me, his heartbeat steady beneath my cheek, his voice still murmuring those same words like a lifeline pulling me back from the edge.

Arthur

I stayed with Ceci until her breathing finally evened out, until the trembling in her body subsided and she slipped into an uneasy sleep. Her fingers still clutched my shirt like she was afraid I'd disappear if she let go, and I let her hold on as long as she needed.

When her grip finally loosened and her hand fell away from my chest, I carefully extracted myself from the bed. I forced myself to turn away before I lost my nerve entirely and climbed back into bed beside her.

The hallway outside was bright with harsh overhead lighting that made me squint after the dim warmth of the bedroom. Two uniformed officers stood near the stairs at a respectful distance, their expressions professional and alert. They straightened slightly when they saw me, but I held up a hand to forestall any questions.

I recognized the detective who'd handled Winston family security concerns in the past—Detective Sarah Clark, a woman in her late forties with sharp eyes and a reputation for being thorough to the point of obsessive. She was speaking quietly with one of the evidence technicians, but she looked up as I approached.

"Mr. Winston," she said, her voice low and controlled. "How is Miss Locke?"

"Sedated. Drugged." The words came out flat, emotionless, because if I let myself feel what I was actually feeling right now I'd go back into that guest room where they were holding Evelyn Gray and finish what I'd started with Matthias.

"Dr. Morrison confirmed it's likely Rohypnol or something similar. We're waiting on blood work to confirm the specific substance."

Detective Clark had a serious expression. "We have the physical evidence—the wine bottle, the suspect in custody, and several witnesses who can confirm the timeline of events."

"The bottle," I said, and heard my own voice drop into something colder, more controlled. "Where is it now?"

"Evidence team has it." She gestured toward the dining room, where I could see technicians in gloves carefully bagging and labeling items from the party.

"We'll run a full analysis, but preliminary testing shows traces of a sedative compound in the wine itself. Someone dissolved pills in it—not a lot, but enough to affect anyone who drank more than a glass or two."

My hands clenched at my sides. "Ceci drank at least three glasses. Maybe four. She was emotional. Her father's wine. She wanted to feel close to him."

"I understand." Detective Clark's voice gentled slightly, and I saw something that might have been sympathy flicker across her face before she smoothed it away.

"Mr. Winston, I need to ask you some questions about the events of this evening. Can you walk me through what happened, starting from when you first became aware there was a problem?"