Page 15 of The Road to Ruined

I'm losing it. I'm losing my mind. Maybe I'm crazier than I thought.

"Huh. No card. Maybe they just put them in all the rooms. They look nice, though."

"Yeah, maybe."

"I'm so sorry, Teagan."

"My fresh start isn't off to a great start, is it?"

"What's odd is that the restaurant uses a premade margarita mix that doesn't even contain kiwi. They said they don't have kiwi in anything on their menu at all. But the doctor says sometimes these allergies and subsequent reactions can worsen as you get older. Someone must have had some on their hands or it may have even been shared equipment at the packaging facility."

"Can I get some water?" I ask. "Sealed water, please?"

"I have water right here," she says, indicating the bottle on the table.

"Yeah, I don't…no, not that one."

Sorry, Mom. It's not you. It's just that I hallucinated a kiwi propped against it a few minutes ago.

"Sure, honey. I'll run down and get you one."

Once she leaves the room, I roll onto my side, and my hand brushes up against the remote I searched helplessly for minutes earlier. A chill runs up my spine, but I quickly put it out of my mind and turn on the TV in front of me.

I flip through the channels for a few seconds before a marquee headline catches my eye:"Former Gods of Tomorrow Blood Cult Member, Hazel Pinault-Hollis, Speaks Out."

I think I'm choking again. Am I imagining this, too? Why would she do that?

"And tonight, we're bringing you an exclusive first: Hazel Pinault-Hollis speaks out on her experience in the Gods of Tomorrow Blood Cult in an exclusive interview with Brandy Brookfield, airing tonight at nine PM. Hazel and her wife, River, lived with Declan De Rossi for almost a year and were with him the day the De Rossi brothers boarded a plane and disappeared last spring…"

The screen cuts to an image of Hazel and River, a selfie, smiling at one of the shows. That crushing feeling at the center of my chest—the one that was constant for months and almost killed me—is back again. I hear the doorknob turn and, panicking, quickly change the channel, stopping on one of those home renovation shows.

My mom enters the room with the doctor trailing behind her. She hands me a bottle of water before sitting in the chair beside my bed, and, with shaky hands, I unscrew the top and force it down. I try to focus on what the doctor is saying, but I can't hear much over my escalated pulse and the blood pumping in my ears. All I can think about is that Hazel is going to be on TV. I'm going to see Hazel's face and hear her voice…if I can get everyone out of my room.

What is she going to say?

I nod, pretending I understand everything I'm hearing, but I do hear that I will be kept overnight. My mom stays for a couple more hours, with my dad dropping in, too, and I just watch the clock, waiting for 9:00 PM and silently begging them to leave.

Eventually, they do, instructing me to get some sleep and turning off the lights. When the door closes behind them, I flip back to the news station and turn the volume down low.

The interview has already started. Hazel sits across from the reporter alone, wearing what appears to be a blonde wig, dark-colored denim, a long-sleeved black top, and black high-heeledboots. Her makeup is subtle. She looks like herself, but a softer version.

Like River.

She's still explaining to the reporter how she and River met.

"She had a more difficult time in foster care than I did,"she explains."She doesn't do well with yelling; she hates violence. And even after all she went through, she was still a very optimistic, trusting person. I blame myself, honestly. I blame myself for what happened. It was because of me that we ended up on that bus. We were at this weird crossroads where River had just graduated from nursing school but didn't have a job yet, and we were living off of my income as a ticket agent at Phoenix Sky Harbor, but they'd been canceling so many flights that I wasn't working much. We were behind on our rent, and at the same time, her student loans were coming in."

"So, let's talk about that, Hazel,"Brandy says."How did you end up on that bus?"

"We had these tickets,"Hazel explains."Backstage passes I'd bought six months earlier for River's birthday. We were both super into the band, their aesthetic, and all that."

"Drinking blood?"Brandy asks.

"I mean, yeah. It was the music and their lyrics, but it was that, too. It was edgy. I kind of went down the rabbit hole, watching all of these fan videos. I thought it was sexy. You know, we almost sold the tickets. Riv suggested it since we were having issues with money, but I said no because I wanted her to enjoy her birthday. And then I met Declan, and he just…sucked me right in. He and Layla both, actually. She reminded me a lot of my wife."

"So, even though you were married, you pursued a sexual relationship with Declan De Rossi."

"It wasn't like that,"Hazel says."Not at first anyway. Declan was…smart. Everyone talks about how rich and talented hewas, but he was so smart. He knew what to do to get under your skin; there was no set formula, it was individually tailored. He seduced me with his intelligence and his outlook on life, his words. It grew into something else for both River and myself, and it was fucking magical, honestly. I mean, it was a family—that's what he called it, and that's how it felt, too. He took care of us, and it felt like love. He showed us the entire world through a fresh lens when we'd barely even left the desert."

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