Page 98 of The Two Halves of My Heart

“I’ll ask you again, who are you and how do you know Grace?” Oliver’s tone was hard and stern, but he maintained his gentle hold of me as if he knew how delicate I was—like glass—liable to smash if dropped.

“Let’s go somewhere to talk. I’ve ordered the place to be cleared.”

Cleared?

Cleared.

Suddenly I couldn’t bear the thought of everyone leaving. What had happened to Mads? What had they done with him?

“No,” I answered. “We can’t leave. I won’t leave him.” I wrestled Oliver, and this time, made it to the door of the cage. My feet stumbled up the few steps and then crashed to my knees at the sight of his body. He was covered. Someone had pulled a black cloth over him and left him where he’d fallen.

“Maddison?” Hot tears trickled down my face, scolding me, but I didn’t wipe them away—rather I embraced them. The pain was too much to push past, so I succumbed, letting it overwhelm and devour me from the inside out, starting with the half of my heart I’d given to him when we were just children.

The howl that ripped from my chest echoed in the vast and empty space, giving voice to my grief that I couldn’t possibly contain. On my knees, I crawled over to where he’d fallen and smothered his body with mine.

My sobs shook my body, and I drowned in the loss right in front of me.

The last thing I remembered was the distant sounds of sirens growing in strength, and the thudding of footsteps as more people—different people—gathered around us.

Me, Oliver, and the body of the boy I loved.

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