Chapter 85
Summer's POV
The car smelled like disinfectant and blood.
I couldn't stop crying. My tears kept dripping onto Kieran's forehead, sliding down his temples into his hair. His head was heavy in my lap, his face so pale it looked like all the blood had drained out of him. The gauze Ms. Thompson had wrapped around his arm was already soaking through, dark red spreading across the white fabric like watercolor bleeding on wet paper.
I stroked his hair with trembling fingers. It was softer than I expected, thick and slightly damp from sweat. His eyelashes were long and dark against his cheekbones, and there were smudges of dirt on his jaw. I wanted to wipe them away but I was afraid to move, afraid any shift might hurt him.
"Please be okay," I whispered. My voice cracked. "Please, please be okay."
Ms. Thompson's voice cut through the fog in my head, sharp and businesslike. She was on her Bluetooth, talking to someone—the principal, I realized.
"Yes, serious physical altercation. One student is bleeding heavily. I'm taking him to White Mountain Regional Hospital now." A pause. "Cross. Kieran Cross. The physics competition transfer student."
My chest tightened. The physics competition transfer student. Not even his name at first. Just his label, his function.
Through the window, I could see nothing but darkness and fog. The headlights cut weak paths through the mist, illuminating twisting mountain roads and the skeletal shapes of bare trees. We were heading away from the lodge, deeper into the woods, and every bump in the road made Kieran's body shift slightly in my lap.
I tightened my hold on him, one hand cradling the back of his head, the other resting on his shoulder. His hoodie was torn at the sleeve, and I could see more blood underneath, dark and wet. My brain kept flashing back to the lake—to his arm, the way he'd just stood there while Tyler screamed, the methodical way he'd hurt himself.
He did this on purpose.
The thought made me feel sick. He'd carved into his own skin, made himself bleed, let Tyler put hands on his throat hard enough to leave bruises—all to make sure the evidence would stick. All to protect me from those videos Tyler had taken.
I pressed my palm against my mouth to keep from sobbing out loud.
In my first life, Kieran had always been alone. At our wedding, he'd stood by himself while my mother's side of the family filled the pews. At company events, he'd hover at the edges of rooms, nursing a drink and ignoring everyone. Even at home, he'd sit in his study for hours, door closed, doing God knows what while I wandered the empty halls of that massive house.
I'd thought he preferred it that way. I'd thought he was cold, self-sufficient, didn't need anyone.
But now I understood. He wasn't cold. He was just used to being left alone.
And I couldn't let that happen again.
Ms. Thompson's phone rang. She answered it with a clipped "Thompson," then her jaw tightened.
"Mr. Ashford." Her tone went icy. "Yes, I'm aware your son is also involved. No, I will not be taking action until I have all the facts. According to preliminary reports, Tyler was found outside the girls' bathhouse with hidden camera equipment. Cross intervened."
A pause. I could hear a man's voice on the other end, loud and angry even through the speaker.
"Mr. Ashford, threatening to withdraw your donations and sue the school will not change protocol. We have a student with serious injuries who needs medical attention. The police will be involved. I suggest you hire a lawyer." She hung up.
My hands were shaking. Tyler's father was already trying to twist this, already using his money and his power to make Kieran the villain.
The car pulled into a parking lot. Through the windshield, I could see a small brick building with a lit sign that read WHITE MOUNTAIN REGIONAL HOSPITAL - EMERGENCY. The lights were harsh and white, making everything look sterile and wrong.
A nurse came out with a wheelchair. Ms. Thompson opened the back door and I realized I was going to have to let go of him.
"Summer, you need to move."
I shook my head. My arms were locked around Kieran's shoulders, my fingers tangled in his hair. I couldn't make myself let go.
"Summer." Ms. Thompson's voice was gentler now. She put a hand on my wrist. "They need to take him inside. You can't help him if you don't let them do their job."
I forced my fingers to uncurl. The nurse lifted Kieran into the wheelchair with practiced efficiency, and then he was being pushed through the automatic doors and I was standing in the parking lot with my arms still held out like I was cradling something invisible.
Ms. Thompson handed me a bottle of water. "Sit down."
I sat on the curb. My legs gave out halfway and I almost fell, but I made it. The concrete was cold and damp and I could feel it seeping through my pajama pants, but I didn't care. I stared at the emergency room doors. They were metal and had a small window, but I couldn't see anything through it except fluorescent lights.
Ms. Thompson's phone rang again. And again. And again.
First it was the principal, asking for updates. Then it was Mr. Ashford, yelling so loud I could hear him from six feet away. Ms. Thompson's responses were calm and factual and completely unmoved by his threats.
"Your son was caught with surveillance equipment outside the girls' bathhouse. Cross has visible injuries consistent with self-defense. We will wait for the medical examination and police report before making any disciplinary decisions."
A car pulled up. Our PE teacher, Mr. Davis, got out, followed by Tyler. Tyler was soaking wet, his hair plastered to his skull, his face blotchy and red. He looked like he'd been crying. When he saw me, his eyes went wide and panicked.
"He's insane!" Tyler's voice was shrill, cracking on the last word. "That psycho tried to kill me! He cut himself up and blamed it on me! You have to believe me—"
Mr. Davis put a hand on his shoulder. "Tyler, calm down."
"I'm not lying!" Tyler was shaking, his whole body trembling. "He's fucking crazy! He needs to be locked up!"
They disappeared into the hospital through a different entrance. I heard Tyler's voice echoing down the hallway, high and desperate, saying the same things over and over. He's insane. He did it to himself. I didn't touch him.
I wrapped my arms around my knees and put my forehead down. My chest felt like it was caving in.
On one side of the building, Tyler had teachers and his father and lawyers and money. On the other side, Kieran had no one.
Just like always.
I stood up. My legs were unsteady but I made myself walk to the drinking fountain at the far end of the parking lot. I needed to move, needed to do something, because if I sat still any longer I was going to scream.
As I passed the nurse's station, I heard voices. Two nurses were talking in low tones, but the hallway carried sound and I caught fragments of their conversation.
"...that chubby kid won't stop crying. Keeps saying someone's trying to frame him. Acting like he's possessed or something. Made such a fuss they had to move him upstairs to a private room."
"Who, the really good-looking boy?"
"How could he frame anyone? His arm's torn up so badly he can barely move it. I was the one who cleaned the wounds—you didn't see how deep they were. He carved along the length of it, then crossed back the other way. We went through half a trash can of gauze, and every single cotton ball came out pink."
"Poor kid. And he's got so many old scars too. The skin was too tight to stitch easily. He's probably been through hell before this."
A pause. My hand froze on the water fountain button.
"...and he strangled the other one. Left a whole ring of bruises around his neck, black as anything. One of the nurses said it was close to crushing his windpipe. Even the head nurse got called in to document it. She kept asking if we should call the police, take photos for evidence. This isn't a fight between kids—this is attempted murder."