Page 96 of The Villains We Make

“Wake up, O. That’s it. Wake up. You’re safe now. No one’s going to hurt you now. It’s time to wake up, sweetheart.”

And as if she was waiting for just those words, her eyelids flutter and slowly, so slowly, her eyes open. I smile and watch my tears drop on her cheek and I wipe them away as they keep coming, mine or hers, I’m not sure, because she’s awake. She’s awake.

41

OPHELIA

Ido remember that moment when I’d told him his eyes looked like my favorite beach. God, how embarrassed I’d been.

I feel myself blush thinking about it.

Silas, my beautiful Silas, weeps. I reach up. It takes so much effort, but I do it and I cup his bearded face. I smile.

The door opens then and the little cocoon around us is gone, just like that. Back to reality. Doctors. A hospital room. Needles and pain and painkillers and examinations. Silas watching me all the while. Never taking his eyes from me.

It takes another twenty-four hours before I can sit up.

The nurse adjusts the pillow at my back. The shower switches off. Silas is showering in the bathroom in my room. He wouldn’t leave, apparently, not even to bathe.

“Human body is incredible, isn’t it, hon?” The kind nurse asks. “You lost so much blood. Neither your father nor your husband were a match or I’m sure they’d have given all of theirs to save you. Now that husband of yours,” she pauses, glances at the door. “I’d tell you to hold on to that one, but I don’t think he has any intention of letting you go.”

“My dad wasn’t a match?” I ask, not sure why I’m caught on that.

The bathroom door opens, and Silas steps out. His hair is wet, and his beard is gone. I smile to see him, and she never gets a chance to answer as he walks to my side, a cloud of steam behind him.

The nurse looks at him, then turns back to me and gives me a wink before leaving, telling us she’ll be right back with lunch.

“You smell better,” I tell Silas.

He smiles. “How do you feel?”

“Okay.” He sits down. “Tell me what happened now. All of it.”

His face darkens. “We don’t have to?—”

“I want to know, Silas.”

“Hamish is gone.”

I nod sadly. “Ethan killed him. I’m so sorry about that. How did he know where I was?”

“Your phone, I think. He must have been able to track it.”

“That’s why he gave it back to me, isn’t it?”

“I think so.”

“It was really him? To kill his dad?”

Silas nods. “He confessed as much. They’re doing a mental evaluation. Sly did a number on him. He had it worse than I did, really.”

“God. How sad it all is.”

Silas draws a deep breath in. “Enough about Ethan.”

“Silas, what were you burning?”

“What?”

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