Chapter 37 Loosing it.

Chapter 37 Loosing it.
Maya's POV

The silence stretched between us like a wire about to snap.

Cynthia stood at the end of the hallway, her arms still crossed, her lips still curved in that infuriating half smile. She didn't look scared or even sorry. She looked like someone who knew exactly how much power she had and wasn't afraid to use it.

Who warned her? Who told her we'd be here?

Who is pulling the strings?

Justin's voice was low. "I asked you a question, Cynthia."

"And I heard you." She tilted her head. "Are you going to force the words out of my mouth or what? Hmm? What are you going to do, Justin? Shake me? Shout at me? Hit me?"

She laughed. It was cold and brittle. The sound echoed off the walls.

She's not afraid of him or anything. She thinks she's untouchable, just like Sarah, just like all of them.

I couldn't breathe.

I couldn't think.

All I could see was her face. Her perfect, smug, untouchable face. The face that had kissed him at the party. The face that had called me a stupid, ugly little girl. The face that was standing here, in the hospital where my father was fighting for his life, acting like she had every right to be here.

Do you know what I've been through?

Do you have any ideas?

The pictures, videos, the whispers. All for what I didn't do.

My father collapsed and is in the hospital because of this.

Does she know the threats I've received, the fear, the nights I've spent crying myself to sleep because I don't know if I'm going to make it through another day.

Do you know any of that?

Do you even care?

No.

You don't.

You're just like Sarah.

You're just like all of them.

Something inside me snapped.

I don't remember moving or even deciding to move. One second I was standing there, frozen, and the next I was running toward her. My fists were clenched, my teeth were bared. I wasn't thinking. I wasn't breathing. I was just… moving.

"You don't get to do this!" The words ripped out of me. "You fucking don't have any right to show up here and ruin everything! You don't get to…"

"Maya!"

Justin's arms caught me around the waist. He lifted me off the ground and pulled me back. I kicked, I thrashed, I didn't care.

"Let me go!"

"Maya… stop."

"She doesn't get to… look at how she's standing there looking smug…she can't just…do you know what I've been through?" My voice cracked and broke. Tears were streaming down my face. "Do you have any idea? Any at all?"

Cynthia didn't move. She just stood there watching. Her expression hadn't changed. The half smile was still there. The cold eyes were still there.

She's enjoying this. She's actually enjoying this.

"See?" she said softly. "This is what I mean. You are unstable and volatile. You can't control her, can you, Justin?"

"Shut the hell up." Justin's voice was strained. He was still holding me. Still keeping me from lunging at her. "Just…shut up."

Cynthia shrugged. "I'm just saying. You deserve better."

Better?

Someone better than me.

Someone like her. Someone who isn't broken or who isn't a project.

Justin took one step toward her. Just one. But it was enough to wipe the smile off her face.

"Get out." Justin's voice was harder now. "Right now. Before I do something we both regret."

Cynthia raised an eyebrow. "Are you threatening me?"

"I'm giving you a choice. Leave. Or I'll make you leave."

For a moment, just a moment…something flickered in her eyes.

Fear.

Real fear.

She's scared of him. Well…she should be.

Then her face smoothed back into that perfect mask.

"Fine," she said. "I'm going."

She turned and walked a few steps. Then she stopped and looked back over her shoulder.

"You should ask him about the ring."

My blood turned to ice.

The ring.

The way she said it made my stomach twist. She mentioned the ring at the party, now she's mentioned it again.

What ring? What is she talking about?

What is he hiding?

"Ask him," Cynthia said. "Ask him why he really left. Ask him what he's not telling you."

Justin's arms tightened around me. His breath was hot against my ear.

"Don't listen to her," he said quietly. "She's just trying to get inside your head."

Is she?

Or is she telling the truth?

I don't know anymore. I don't know anything.

Cynthia walked away. Her heels clicked down the hallway slowly, like she was making sure we heard every step.

The sound faded and the hallway was silent again.

Justin loosened his grip. His hands slid from my waist to my shoulders as he turned me to face him.

"Are you okay?"

Am I okay?

No.

I'm not okay. I haven't been okay for a long time and I don't think I ever will be again.

"I'm fine," I said.

"You're not fine."

"I said I'm fine."

He stared at me for a long moment. His eyes searched my face.

What is he looking for? What does he want me to say?

That I'm falling apart? That I can't do this anymore?

That every time I think I've hit rock bottom, someone hands me a shovel?

"We should go back to your father's room," he said finally.

I nodded.

I didn't trust my voice.



We walked in silence. The hallway seemed longer than before, the lights seemed dimmer, even the air seemed thinner.

Justin walked beside me. Close enough that our shoulders almost touched. Close enough that I could feel the heat coming off his arm.

He's still here, after everything, after Cynthia, after I lost control.

He's still here.

Why? Why does he stay? What does he get out of this?

Guilt? Obligation? The ghost of his sister?

Or something more?

Something he won't admit?

Something he can't admit?

I wanted to ask him about the ring, about what Cynthia meant. About why he really left and what he wasn't telling me.

But I didn't have the energy. I didn't have anything.

We turned the corner and my father's room was at the end of the hall. The door was closed, the light was on….everything looked normal, right?

A nurse running past us into his room doesn't mean anything, right?

But she was running fast. Too fast. Her shoes squeaked on the linoleum. Her face was pale and her eyes were wide.

What…God. What is going on?

Then another nurse was running in the same direction. Then another. All of them headed toward Papa's room.

They're running toward Papa's room. One of them was already pulling gloves on.

My knees almost gave out.

"Code Blue. Room 312. Code Blue."

The words hit me like a physical blow.

Code Blue. I've seen that on TV.

It means… It means someone's heart stopped. It means someone's dying.

It means…Papa.

No.

No, no, no.

Justin grabbed my hand. "Come on."

He pulled me forward. My legs were moving but I couldn't feel them. My heart was pounding but I couldn't feel that either.

Please….Please let him be okay.

Please.

I can't lose him…I can't.

He's all I have.

We reached the door and through the small window, I could see them…doctors, nurses, machines. Hands were moving and voices shouting.

And Papa…my papa was lying on the bed, not moving. A doctor climbed onto the stool beside the bed and started compressions.

Papa.

No.

Please…Please.

Justin's hand tightened around mine.

"Maya.."

I couldn't hear the rest.

The world went silent and all I could see was my father's face.

Pale…still.

Dying.