Page 45 of Cruel Hearts

We walk down the hallway, and Iona chatters nervously. She doesn’t trust my patience, my easy acceptance of her explanation, but she doesn’t know what I know.

Stella would never hurt my sister. Not intentionally.

Iona punches the security code into the keypad, and she pushes the door open.

Zarah sits as she normally does when I visit, a thin blanket on her lap. This time she’s rubbing her bare ring finger.

“Zarah,” I say, perching in the chair Stella used and scooting it closer. “How are you doing, sweetheart?”

Zarah’s eyes blank out. She doesn’t want me here, and that hurts.

Stella managed to get past her wall, but Zarah won’t let me in. What have I done to make her hate me? Frustrated, I stand. She’s uncomfortable with me here.

Zarah goes back to tracing her finger where Ash’s ring sat for five years.

I try again. “Zarah, did you see Stella?”

Her guarded eyes light up, but she turns away.

Sorrow threatens to drown me. I don’t know what I did. “Okay. I’m sorry. I’ll go.”

Near her door, I scan her medications clipped to the board on the wall. I don’t know what they do, and I can’t pronounce most of them. The chart indicates they are given to her every day without fail.

Iona’s waiting, standing halfway in the hallway, halfway in the Zarah’s suite, her foot propping the door open.

“I’d like to move my sister,” I tell her, and her eyes widen in alarm. “I think she would respond to treatment better at home.”

“That’s not your call,” Ash snaps, violently pushing past Iona and striding into the suite. I pity whoever’s on the other side of the fury on his face.

“What do you mean? She’s my sister. If I want her home, then I can bring her home.” I don’t understand the vehemence in his voice.

He smooths his expression and struggles to find calm. “Did you forget after Stella abandoned you, you were too confused to make any decisions regarding Zarah and her treatment? You signed power of attorney over to me, Zane. You were grateful.”

While I’d been grieving Stella’s betrayal, I gave up control of my sister. The memories are vague—buried under devastation, misery, and booze. Claiming he wanted to help, Ash stepped in. “She’s my fiancée,” he said. “I love her and I’ll see to it she receives the best care.” I remember scrawling my name onto something, and Ash slapping me on the back, saying I did the right thing.

At the time, I’d had no choice. I couldn’t think coherently, couldn’t do anything except pour another drink, but I’m not like that anymore. I can give Zarah what she needs at home, and there’s no reason she needs to be here now. Five years after the fact.

“I remember, and I appreciate you were there for her when I couldn’t be. Sign the papers and let her come home. I’ll hire a nurse. She’ll do better at the penthouse.”

“No.”

I grit my teeth.

Ash approaches Zarah, caresses her cheek, and kneels in front of her.

She pales, flinches. Her hands tremble in her lap.

I’ve never seen Zarah and Ash together—we’ve always staggered our visits. That had been Ash’s suggestion, explaining it could help her recovery if she had as many visitors as possible. It made sense, and I agreed.

He rests his hand on the nape of her neck and whispers in her ear. Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he stands and smooths his tie.

Iona holds the door open, and we step out of Zarah’s suite.

“I need to speak with you,” Ash snaps at Iona, eliciting frightened stares from two nurses chatting a few feet away, and she pales. He strides down the hallway and the director of Quiet Meadows rushes to catch up.

He won’t give her the same understanding that I did, and I pity her falling for Denton’s charms.

“Zane. Now,” he orders, not even bothering to turn around, assuming I’ll follow.

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