Page 52 of Wicked Promises (Fallen Royals 3)

To be shipped off to a different foster home. To never see them again.

It would be a just punishment.

Fair.

So this? This is a goodbye.

This is putting my heart in a blender because I deserve pain over any form of happiness. Caleb knew that, made sure it was drilled into my head. Even my mother knew it—it’s why she left instead of choosing to fight for me.

He lets me cry into his chest without complaint. Eventually my tears will run out, but the grief is endless.

I sit up. Lenora comes farther into the room, a box of tissues in her hand. She offers me the box, and I take a few, dabbing at my eyes.

And then I force myself off the bed and go to the window, then suck in a deep breath. The weight is still there, crushing me.

“You should get rid of me,” I say to the glass. We’re on the fourth floor with a decent view. The hospital is the tallest building around. There’s the neighborhood, then a stretch of forest, and there my line of sight ends. “I’m no good. A danger, even.”

“Why would you say that?” Lenora asks.

“For the past three months, I’ve been…” I close my eyes. “Harassed? Stalked? I don’t know. By someone I didn’t know. But then on Sunday, they—”

“Margo—”

I spin around. “It’s my fault. They hit our car to get to me. And you were hurt because of me.”

I rub my chest. I can’t breathe again. My heart takes off, galloping out of control.

My fault, it chants with every beat.

Lenora guides me into a chair. “I think you’re having a panic attack.”

My fault. My fault.

I gasp, but I can’t seem to get any air. Black spots flash in front of my vision.

—what did you do, Margo?—

This wouldn’t the first time you destroyed a family.

“Breathe, honey,” Lenora says.

And then Robert is in front of me, his hands on my cheeks.

“With me, now,” he says. “In and out.”

“You shouldn’t be out of bed.” Lenora strokes his hair back. Her other hand is on my shoulder.

I take a moment to appreciate them both.

They’re grounding.

“Margo,” Robert says firmly. “We’re not sending you away. Len said you’re staying with the Blacks until I’m well enough to go home. It should be any day now, right?”

He sucks in a noisy breath, holds it, then blows it out.

I mimic him, and cool, sweet air rushes back into my lungs. We keep going until my heart has slowed. My hands shake, but I mask it by smoothing out my pants.

“We’re not giving you up,” he repeats. He uses the arm of the chair to lift himself off the floor. He makes it almost all the way straight before he doubles over.

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