Page 13 of Malicious Pacts

I hope you’re feeling better. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for the rest of your visit. I’ve been moved to another unit due to staffing issues, but I promise we’ll see each other soon. Until then, my number is on that card. Use it if you ever need anything. Hold onto it even after you leave.

You’re alone now, and you never know when you’ll need help. I’ll be there—day or night if you ever need me. Don’t hesitate. I mean that. It’s not an empty offer. I would be devastated if someone weren’t there for my own daughter, so I won’t allow you to be all alone out there either.

Also, there are a lot of reporters sniffing around wanting to talk to you. This story has gotten pretty big in the region. The hospital has kept them away but be careful. Don’t let them put you on the news. Trust me, that kind of thing never goes away, and you get weirdos crawling from all corners of hell interested in you. People you want to stay far away.

I hope you like the flowers. They’re my favorite. Get well soon. I’ll check on you as soon as I can.

Angela.

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I smiled and looked back at the beautiful flowers. They certainly were beautiful. I’d never been so grateful for a stranger before. The world felt dark and dangerous, but she was a reminder that not everything was bad.

Looking at the clock, I discovered I had about an hour before physical therapy came in here to torture me. They came in a few times a day to get me up and walk me through the halls. It was horrible. It was torturous. I hated it. However, I hated the thought of getting pneumonia or a blood clot from laying around in bed too much and being down even longer. So, as much as I despised Selena the PT, I would grit my teeth, grunt, and groan my way down the hallway and back a few times.

Until then, I decided to watch some TV. At least they had cable in here. My phone had been destroyed in the explosion. It had been in my pocket, so I’d landed on it and smashed the screen. My dad didn’t have insurance on it, and even if he did, it wasn’t like I could pay the deductible.

An estate lawyer had stopped by to talk to me a couple days before. They had life insurance, but it would take a little bit longer to process because of the investigation. In the meantime, I had to figure out what to do with their bodies, which was even more devastating. I had no way to pay for them to be buried, and I didn’t want to do cremation—even if itwaswhat they wanted—because that meant burning away any evidence.

I’d seen enough of those cold case shows where bodies were later exhumed, and more evidence was found. I didn’t want to be the reason their murders didn’t get solved. I hoped they’d forgive me. I think Dad would definitely understand, though I wasn’t sure about Mom. One thing I knew for sure was there wouldn’t be a proper funeral. Once the life insurance went through, they’d be buried even before I was released.

It was a terrible realization, one that broke my heart. How lonely.

I didn’t feel much like thinking about any of that, so I resumed my previous train of thought—TV.

The remote was on a wire attached to the bed. It controlled the TV, the lights in the room, and had a call button. It was everything I needed. I flipped through channels, looking for cartoons—because I was an eighteen-year-old child—but I stopped short when I came across the news.

It was 9:00 AM, so the main story was always a big one. And the only big story right now was…mine.

I looked on in horror as they showed an arial shot of the church. It was taken when the firefighters were still battling the blaze. It was nearly out by the time this was shot, so no large flames were in view, but smoke still billowed through the now open roof.

The back had been burned all the way through. Some of the roof caved in as the water from their hoses continued to fall. I wondered if that was before or after the bodies had been removed. I grimaced when I realized the bodies were still probably in there right then. If the fire had gotten that bad, there was no way they would have been able to get more than a hundred people out of there.

The fire had probably burned their bodies. Rage seared through me as I thought of how much those people suffered only to continue suffering even after death. My eyes squeezed shut as I thought of my mom and dad in there…burning.

I reached for a Kleenex and blew my nose. I groaned loudly as the pain in my side reminded me that I was an idiot and not paying attention to what I was doing.

By the time the pain calmed back down, the news had shown shots of the inside. This was obviously taken later because there was no fire or smoke to be seen, and the bodies were gone. Still, all the evidence in the world was there.

The pews were destroyed toward the front of the church. From the outside, the front wasn’t terribly damaged by the fire, but inside was a different story. From the looks of it, the explosion had happened between the entrance and center of the building. It made sense. They probably opened the door, chucked whatever it was inside, and ran back out to take cover.

Once the explosion happened, they ran in and shot people before taking whatever they could.

I grabbed another Kleenex to wipe my tears as my free hand clenched tight around the remote. They spoke about what happened, but I couldn’t even focus on that. All I could focus on was the shattered pews. The blood stains. The charred Bibles and Hymnals. I couldn’t believe they would show that on the news. It was not only disrespectful, but it was also triggering to the survivors.

My chest fell.Survivor.Only one.

Me.

And just like clockwork, just as that horrible thought occurred to me, I saw exactly what Angela had warned me about.

“…sole survivor, Temperance Wilder, who is in stable but critical condition at County General Hospital in southern Indiana. She could not be reached for comment at this time.”

My eyes were wide as I listened to them talk about me while showing a large photo of me from my junior year. They couldn’t get in touch with me, so they snagged a yearbook and got a photo of me! I was eighteen now, as of June second, which was a few weeks ago, so it was completely legal.

Completely legal and completely shitty, and I was completely pissed off.

I was a competitor. Always had been. I competed in archery, wrestling, and even karate. I took second place in archery nationals the same week as my eighteenth birthday. It was televised, but my dad was paranoid about protecting me from weirdos.

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