Page 100 of Wicked Truths
I gasp, my hands flying to my throat as a memory flashes through my mind. Lying on a hard pavement, pain radiating through every inch of my body. My eyelids were so heavy I could barely keep them open, but through the slits, I saw a shadowy figure standing over me before it turned and walked away. Leaving me there to die.
I gasp, but I can’t catch my breath. My lungs won’t fill properly no matter how hard I try to inhale. Black spots dance at the edges of my vision as I clutch at my chest.
“She’s having a panic attack,” Milly says, rushing to kneel in front of me. She grabs my hands. “Amara, look at me. Breathe with me, okay? In through your nose, out through your mouth.”
But I can’t focus on her. All I can see is that shadowy figure turning away.
Dom pushes past the detectives, gathering me into his arms. “Get out of my home,” he growls at them over his shoulder. “Now.”
I’m already being carried up the stairs, my mother crying as she tries to hold on to me, her fingers clutching at my arm.
“It’ll be okay, Amara. Just breathe,” Mom says as Dom reaches my room and places me gently on my bed.
The walls of my bedroom seem to close in, the air thick and suffocating.
My heart is still hammering against my ribs, but at least I can breathe again.
“I need to be by myself,” I whisper.
Milly nods and stands, but I tighten my grip on her hand.
“No, not you,” I say. “I meant everyone else. Please stay.”
Dom sighs, and Mom grumbles, but they leave.
I’m still clinging to Milly’s hand as the door closes behind everyone.
She settles back beside me on the bed, her weight creating a comforting dip in the mattress. I curl into her side like I used to when we were kids—at least; I think I did. The memory feels right, but I can’t be sure of anything anymore.
“Milly, help me,” I plead, my voice breaking. “I don’t know who to trust.”
Her arm wraps around my shoulders, pulling me closer. “I told you that you can trust me. Always.”
I look at my sister and whisper, “I—I saw someone that night.”
“Who?”
I shake my head. “They just...walked away. Left me there.”
Milly stiffens beside me. “You remember?”
“Only that and the taste of my blood.” I swallow hard, the phantom copper flavor coating my tongue. “I was on the ground, everything hurt, and there was this...figure standing over me. They just looked down at me and then turned and walked away.” Tears creep down my cheeks. “They left me to die, Milly.”
“Fuck, I’m going to kill them, Amara,” she says, her voice shaking with anger. “Someone tried to kill you. And I’m going to find out who it was.” She pulls back slightly, her eyes searching mine. “Do you remember if it was a man or a woman?”
I close my eyes, trying to grasp at the shadowy memory. “I don’t know. It was dark. They were just...a shape.”
“What about their build? Tall? Short?”
I shake my head, frustrated. “I can’t—it’s like trying to hold on to smoke.” My fingers twist in the bedsheets. “But they knew me, Milly. I’m sure of it. They knew who I was, and they wanted me dead.”
“Keep this to yourself, Amara. I’ll talk to Lia. The three of us will work it out.”
26
Amara
There’s a tap onmy bedroom door as I sit at my dresser and use a special foundation Milly bought me to cover my slowly disappearing bruises. It’s been weeks since my accident but the last of the bruises refuses to budge.
