Chapter 29 "After the Fall"
ROSANNA
Rosanna stood on the driveway of the Ashcroft estate, the cold November wind biting at her bare skin.
She could hear Ember's voice in her mind, growing weaker with each passing second, begging her to go back. To help Adrian. To save the boy who had betrayed them.
I love him, Ember kept saying. Please. I love him.
Those three words echoed in the space they now shared a consciousness split between a girl from the present and a woman from the past, both trapped in the same failing body.
Love.
Rosanna remembered what love felt like. Remembered William's hands in hers, his promises whispered in the dark. Remembered believing that love could conquer anything, even an arranged marriage, even societal expectations, even the wrath of a jealous wife.
She'd been wrong then.
Was Ember wrong now?
Please, Ember whispered again, her voice barely a thread. He's dying. I can feel it. Please.
Rosanna turned and looked back at the mansion. The front door still stood open, light spilling onto the porch. Inside, somewhere in that basement, Adrian Crane lay bleeding. Maybe already dead. Maybe taking his last breaths.
The smart thing would be to leave. To take this body and run as far as possible. To let Adrian die and eliminate one more Ashcroft from the bloodline.
But Ember's anguish was like a knife in Rosanna's chest. And if Ember gave up if she stopped fighting to stay alive Rosanna would fade back into nothing.
She needed Ember. Which meant keeping Ember's will to live intact.
Even if it meant saving the boy who'd brought them here to die.
Rosanna sighed a long, bitter sound and turned back toward the house.
"You're a fool," she said to Ember. "He betrayed you."
I know. But I love him anyway.
"Love is a weakness."
Maybe. But it's my weakness.
Rosanna climbed the porch steps, her bare feet leaving bloody prints on the wood. She walked back through the mansion, down the hallway, down the basement stairs.
Adrian lay exactly where she'd left him, his head in a growing pool of blood. His breathing was shallow, barely there. His face had gone pale as death.
Rosanna knelt beside him, placing her hand over the wound on his head.
She closed her eyes and reached for the power the curse had given her. Healing wasn't her gift destruction was. But desperation made people creative. Made them try things they didn't think possible.
She felt the energy flowing through her, hot and angry, and tried to direct it. Tried to slow the bleeding, seal the wound enough to keep him alive.
It was like trying to hold water in a sieve. The power wanted to destroy, not create. Wanted to burn, not heal.
But Rosanna pushed harder, feeling Ember's presence beside her, lending what little strength she had left.
Please, Ember whispered. Please work.
The bleeding slowed. Not much. Not enough. But maybe, maybe it would be enough to keep him breathing until help arrived.
Rosanna pulled her hand away, exhausted. The black veins on her skin were pulsing faster now, her borrowed body struggling under the strain.
She stood on shaking legs and looked down at Adrian one last time.
"You better be worth this," she said. "For her sake."
Then she turned and walked back up the stairs, through the house, out into the night.
This time, she didn't stop.
This time, she kept walking, her bare feet numb against the cold ground, until the mansion was far behind and the trees closed in around her.
Somewhere in the distance, sirens wailed.
Good. Help was coming for Adrian.
But Rosanna and Ember needed to disappear.
ADRIAN
Awareness returned slowly, like swimming up through thick mud.
The first thing Adrian registered was pain a dull, throbbing ache that seemed to consume his entire head. The second was light, too bright even through his closed eyelids, making him want to retreat back into the comfortable darkness.
But something was pulling him forward. Some instinct that said he needed to wake up. Needed to remember.
Adrian's eyes fluttered open.
White ceiling. Fluorescent lights. The steady beep of machines.
Hospital.
He tried to move and immediately regretted it. His whole body felt wrong heavy and disconnected, like it didn't quite belong to him anymore. His head throbbed with each heartbeat, a rhythmic reminder of
Ember.
The memory hit him like a physical blow. Ember on the altar. The black veins. The empty eyes. Flying backward. His head cracking against stone.
Where is she? Is she okay? How long have I been
"Oh, you're awake!"
A nurse appeared in his blurred vision middle-aged, kind face, wearing purple scrubs. She moved quickly to his bedside, checking the machines, adjusting something on his IV.
"Easy now," she said when Adrian tried to sit up. "You need to rest. You've been through quite an ordeal."
"What" Adrian's voice came out as a rasp, his throat dry and raw. "What happened?"
"You had a severe head injury. Internal hemorrhaging. You underwent emergency surgery to relieve the pressure on your brain." The nurse pressed a button, raising the head of his bed slightly. "You're very lucky to be alive, Mr. Crane."
Surgery. Brain surgery.
Adrian's hand moved to his head, feeling bandages wrapped around his skull. Thick, extensive bandages that suggested they'd had to open him up.
"How long?" he asked, dread building in his chest. "How long have I been here?"
The nurse checked his chart, her expression sympathetic. "Today is November 28th. You were brought in on the 14th. So"
"Two weeks?" Adrian's voice cracked. "I've been unconscious for two weeks?"
"Yes. You were in a medically induced coma for the first ten days to let the swelling in your brain reduce. We've been gradually bringing you back for the last four days." She smiled gently. "Your recovery has been remarkable, actually. The doctors are very pleased."
Two weeks.
Ember had been missing or worse for two weeks, and Adrian had been lying here unconscious, useless.
"I need to" Adrian started pulling at the IV in his hand. "I need to leave. I need to find"
"Mr. Crane, you can't leave. You're still recovering"
"I don't care!" Adrian yanked the IV out, ignoring the sharp pain and the drop of blood that welled up. "I need to get out of here. Now."
"Mr. Crane, please" The nurse reached for the call button, but Adrian was already swinging his legs over the side of the bed.
Standing was harder than he'd expected. The room spun violently, and his legs felt like they might give out at any moment. But he forced himself upright, gripping the bed rail for support.
"If you leave against medical advice, we can't be responsible"
"I understand. Where are my clothes?"
The nurse hesitated, then pointed to a small closet in the corner. "But Mr. Crane, you really should"
Adrian was already moving, stumbling toward the closet. His clothes were there jeans, shirt, jacket all cleaned and folded. No shoes, but he'd figure that out.
"Thank you for everything," Adrian said, pulling on his jeans with shaking hands. "But I have to go."
"At least let me call someone to pick you up"
"No. No one." Adrian pulled on his shirt, then his jacket. His hands were trembling so badly he could barely work the zipper. "Please. I just need to go."
The nurse looked torn between following hospital protocol and respecting his desperation. Finally, she sighed.
"There are discharge papers you'll need to sign. And you need to come back for a follow-up in three days. Three days, Mr. Crane. Promise me."
"I promise," Adrian lied.
He signed the papers with a scrawl that barely resembled his signature, then walked out of the room on unsteady legs. The hospital corridor stretched before him, too long and too bright.
Adrian kept his head down, moving as quickly as his battered body would allow. He passed nurses and doctors, other patients in wheelchairs, visitors carrying flowers. No one stopped him.
The cold November air hit him like a slap when he finally made it outside. He was wearing only jeans and a jacket, no shoes, with a head full of bandages that made him look like he'd escaped from a horror movie.
But he didn't care.
Adrian pulled out his phone miraculously still in his jacket pocket and checked the battery. Twenty percent. Good enough.
Then he pulled up his contacts and tried Ember's number.
"The number you have dialed is not in service."
Kelly's number next.
Straight to voicemail.
Maya's.
Same thing.
"No," Adrian whispered, trying again. And again. "No, no, no"
His hands were shaking so badly he nearly dropped the phone. Where were they? Why weren't they answering? Had something happened to them too?
Adrian looked around the parking lot, trying to remember where his car would be. Then he remembered it was probably still at the estate. Or impounded. Or
"Excuse me?" A valet was staring at him with concern. "Sir, are you okay? Do you need help?"
"My car," Adrian managed. "Do you know what happened to the cars from the emergency patients two weeks ago?"
"They're usually towed to the impound lot after seventy-two hours if nobody claims them."
Impound lot. Of course.
Adrian pulled up a rideshare app on his phone, hands still shaking. The nearest driver was eight minutes away.
While he waited, Adrian tried Kelly and Maya's numbers again. And again. Nothing.
The rideshare arrived a beat-up sedan driven by a college student who took one look at Adrian's bandaged head and didn't ask questions.
"Where to?"
"Ravencrest University. Sterling Hall."