Page 58 of Starving Butterfly
WAS SHE R?—
January 5th
His hand brushed against mine, and I grabbed onto it. The static waned as I glanced at him. He didn’t look at me, just stayed as a silent comfort.
They’d told me it was a shock that I was in shock. I didn’t know whether that was true. My mind kept falling in reverse, flashes of Midas and Jeff tangled in my mind. A broken leg, a broken arm. The whippings and the abuse. The ache between my legs. Everything played on a loop.
“Come on sweetheart,” Midas coaxed while I shook my head crying. I didn’t want to do it. But as my clothes were pulled off, and I stood there —
No. Ethan’s hand gripped mine tighter, and I snapped out of the memory. He hummed something soft as his hand combed through her hair. I’d been combing her hair for hours before he came too. I couldn’t find the words I needed to ask one of the doctors to check her. I couldn’t swallow back the pain, couldn’t even breathe long enough for the words to rise to the surface.
“I’m sorry,” Ethan whispered, placing a kiss on her cheek. I stood there blinking back tears as he dropped my hand and turned away. The static returned tenfold; my hands shook.
I inhaled a sharp breath, turning away from her for the first time in hours. He’d walked right out of the door, didn’t turn back, didn’t wait, just walked. Regina followed him on silent steps.
I swiped at the tears that continued down my face; I could hardly see.
“Did they—“ I couldn’t breathe, the sound was deafening and my ears ringed. Karter grabbed hold of my arm.
Turned my face towards his, “breathe.” He mouthed or said, I wasn’t sure.
Waves crashed in my lungs; the tightness didn’t subside as I looked back at her small body.
“Is she—“ the tears wouldn’t stop falling, the words slipping away and the question that burned in my mind still unanswered.
Karter shoved me into a seat. His hand pressed firmly on my chest. His eyes filled with worry, and he kept talking, but I couldn’t hear over the thunder.Was it raining?
My eyes closed, and I swallowed back a wail. No, I needed to know. Standing up, I looked at Lucas. The volume of the static cut out as I asked that question which weighed on my mind, “Is she whole?”
His eyes darkened for a moment. “Karter, take her to get some food. Take her anywhere but here.”
My eyes locked onto her, my broken butterfly. Karter pulled me away through the hallway to the front of the building. I blinked into the bright sunlight as a hand grabbed mine.
My eyes were sore, tired, and puffy as everything moved slower. The hand that closed around mine wasn’t Karter’s. I knew that hand. Where did I know it from?
My head felt like a lead weight as I raised it to look at the face. Scott.
He smiled weakly at me, and a blubbering sob left me.
He looked at someone, his mouth moving, but the words never registered.
The car opened in a haze. Scott’s hand never let go as he sat beside me.
Why wasn’t I happier to see him? I missed him. I missed her. Would he leave me like she did?
50
HOW CAN WE HELP?
January 5th
Karter met us outside just as we pulled up. Scott wrapped his arms around her shoulder and guided her to the car. His fear of not being accepted faded the moment he saw her face. She hugged him tightly.
“What happened?” He asked, but then shook his head, “Never mind, let’s just get her out of the cold.” Scott guided her to the backseat, and the door shut behind them.
I turned to Karter; he watched on as if he wanted to say something but thought better of it. He had dark shadows under his eyes as if he had not slept in days.
Her belly seemed to have doubled in size since the last time I saw her, and my heart ached for her. I couldn’t imagine the pain she felt.
