Page 112 of When Hearts Ignite

My mind spins as I shake my head in disbelief. “I finally found the one woman I care about more than anything in the world, the one person who makes me feel happy and whole and y-you…you’ve taken her away, your actions have destroyed us, destroyed me. How could you?”

Father’s face is as white as a sheet of paper, his breathing coming out in harsh pants and he gasps, “S-Steven, I-I’m sorry. I…”

His eyes roll backward and he collapses face forward on the dining table.

“Father!” I reach him and clasp his shoulders, pulling him back up.

His head lolls to the side, his body lax and unresponsive.

“Robert!” Mother screeches behind me, and everything descends into chaos.

“He’s sedated right now. I’d recommend letting him rest and not stressing him out further,” the doctor instructs before exiting the private suite at the hospital.

I bury my face into my hands at his bedside as Mother cries next to me. Apparently, father experienced something called a vasovagal syncope, and the fainting was caused by a myriad of factors—his lack of sleep, overworking and overexertion, not eating or drinking water enough, and emotional upset most likely from TransAmerica and…

What I asked him this morning.

My mind is swirling and blurring and the world doesn’t make sense to me anymore.

Grace, my sister.

Father all but admitted it before he passed out.

When he came to a few times in the ambulance and in the hospital, he started thrashing and uttering nonsense and the doctors had to sedate him again while they ran a gamut of tests on him to make sure nothing else was amiss.

I did this to him.

My question was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I ignored his pallor, the sweat beading on his forehead, his rapid breathing, because I was consumed with the need to find out if Grace was related to me.

A chain binds around my lungs, restricting my breath, and my vision blackens.

The door to the room bursts open and I hear the sounds of my sisters running to the bedside.

“How is he?” Jess asks as she pulls my head to her side in comfort.

“How did this happen?” Emily clutches Father’s hand in hers as Mother sniffles in the background.

“The doctors said he was overworked. They sedated him so he could get some rest.” My words sound robotic in my ears.

I can’t bring myself to tell them I did this to Father because I fell in love with my sister. I swallow as another bout of nausea hits.

I can’t breathe.

I can’t think.

Pushing back the chair, I stand up. “Doctor said he’ll be fine. But I need to go back to New York. The FBI is waiting for me to meet with them over some additional inquiries for TransAmerica.”

My pulse rings in my ears, and my feet move of their own accord toward the door. I can’t talk to them and tell them the truth. I can’t face Father after knowing how his mistake in the past has changed the course of my life in more ways than one.

I know I should stay behind and be with my family, but I. Just. Can’t.

Ignoring their questions and Mother’s pleas, I stagger out of the room, my body and mind not mine, my heart irrevocably broken.

A flight and several hours later, which included a long discussion with the Feds, I find myself swaying at the edge of a sidewalk, so close to being three sheets to the wind.

The skies are dark tonight. A brisk night breeze blows by, but I can barely feel the chill.

My mind is still reeling from the events of this morning, and after using the last of my willpower to answer the remaining questions the Feds have on Voss, I needed to escape. Rational thought is a foreign language to me right now and all I feel is pain.

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