Page 55 of Sacrifice
He nods toward the wall.
In red spray paint, someone's written:
WHERE IS SHE?
Below it, smaller but just as angry:
STOP HIDING BEHIND THE CLUB BITCH!
My stomach drops.
This is my fault.
Elfe's hurt because of me.
"Hey." Emil's hand cups my face, forcing me to look at him. "This is not on you. This is on them. And they're going to pay for it."
Sirens wail in the distance, getting closer.
Everything becomes a blur—paramedics rushing in, police asking questions I can barely answer,
Emil never leaving my side even when the cops try to separate us.
"Family?" one of them asks, looking between us.
"Yes," Emil says before I can answer. "I'm her fiancé."
The lie rolls off his tongue so easily I almost believe it myself.
"I need to go with her," I insist as they load Elfe onto a stretcher.
"Family only," the paramedic says.
"I'm her sister," I lie without hesitation.
"I'll follow," Emil tells me. "Go. I'll handle the cops and meet you there."
I climb into the ambulance, holding Elfe's hand as they work on her.
She looks so small, so fragile.
Nothing like the girl who was making jokes about my sex life over breakfast a week ago.
Nothing like the girl who stayed up with me last Tuesday when I couldn't sleep, making up ridiculous stories about the prospects following me.
"You're going to be okay," I tell her, not sure if I'm trying to convince her or myself. "You have to be okay. I need you to be okay."
The ride to the hospital feels endless.
They wheel her away the moment we arrive, leaving me in the waiting room with her blood still on my hands.
That's how Emil finds me twenty minutes later—standing at the sink in the bathroom, scrubbing at stains that won't come out.
"Saga."
"It won't come off," I say, voice detached. "Her blood. It won't?—"
He turns off the water, wraps his arms around me from behind.
