Page 72 of Butterfly

“Don’t twist my words.” I stretch out an arm to take his shoulder, but he keeps going.

“Then you come here with a batshit crazy girl who—”

The punch flies from my fist without me realising it. My knuckles connect with his jaw in a loud smack as the shock of the impact sends a pang of pain along my arm. Charles staggers back, not a sound escaping from him.

“Don’t you dare talk about Sienna in that tone.” I’m shaking, my body heating up.

But he doesn’t fight me. He doesn’t even shoot me an angry glare. All the anger is gone. If anything, his eyes shine again.

“I didn’t mean…” He spins towards the door and storms out, leaving me alone to deal with the unspoken words between us.

Twenty-four

Sienna

DESPITE THE SNOW covering the street, Fiona drives without hesitation. She throws quick glances at me, her fingers restless on the steering wheel.

“I don’t mean to be rude or anything,” she says, “but how did you get those scars?”

“Fiona.” Bethany, sitting next to me in the back seat, squeezes my hand. “I think Sienna should decide if she wants to share her story with us or not. Or maybe with Alex first.”

“Yes, yes, of course.” Fiona shakes her head and holds up a hand. “Sorry. It’s that they seem to have been made with a thin blade and—I’ll shut up.”

Yep, as thin as a scalpel.

The short trip is quiet, the snow adding to the thick silence. Fatigue washes over me in waves as if I’m a seashore flogged by a storm. I slog out of the car and head towards a cute white building with a blue cross on the front and a welcome message I don’t care to read. Fiona fiddles with a few keys until she opens the front door. Cold air frosts my breath as we enter the clinic. Or maybe it’s just me being cold.

“This way.” Fiona presses switches as she goes, and neon lights blink to life. “Sorry, it’s cold. We turned off the heating due to the holidays. Remove any metal or jewels, your top, and lie down on that table. Do you need help with your clothes?”

I nod without looking at her.

She pulls up my jumper and unhooks my bra. “Lie down.”

Behind the screen in front of the table, I do as told and grit my teeth as a sharp pain slices through me when I stretch out. Once I’m lying down, Fiona brushes my hair from my back, taking another sharp intake of breath.

“My word,” she mutters, her voice cracking with emotion. “You know the drill. Don’t move.” She sounds overly cheerful as she removes the screen.

Pain—physical and emotional—is the only thing I feel, but deep down, in a remote corner of my mind, I know I’m doing the right thing. If this is what a caterpillar feels when it’s turning into a butterfly, then I have a new respect for insects.

After a few moments, Fiona comes back and helps me get dressed.

“Sorry about the lack of privacy,” she says, leaving me alone again.

It doesn’t matter now. She and Bethany saw the most intimate, humiliating part of me. I’m beyond shame. My shoulder burns when I sit up, tears stinging my eyes. I remain seated on the table behind the screen, shivering with cold and fear. There’s no going back now. I can’t avoid talking to Alex. In fact, now that the decision has been made, I want to speed up time and be done with it. After he knows the whole story, he might not want me to stay in his house anymore. I’d like to know sooner rather than later if that’s the case. The infamous pen drive is in my bag. I won’t even need to tell him anything. It’ll take a moment to give it to him.

“Darling?” Bethany asks from the other side of the screen.

“I’m ready.” I wipe my eyes and walk around the screen.

Fiona shows me the X-ray on the screen of her phone. “No fracture, just a huge swelling and a big bruise.” She squints. “I don’t think the tendons are damaged, either.”

I try to focus on the X-ray too. I agree with her diagnosis. It’s only a huge, swollen part, full of blood and synovial fluid. “Thank you.”

“No problem. I’ll grab a few drugs for you and a cream for the swelling. If it doesn’t get better, you might need an MRI.” On silent feet, she shuffles out of the room, leaving me alone with Bethany.

She props her hip on the table and folds her arms over her chest. “I don’t mean to hurry you, but what are you planning to do with Alex?”

“I don’t have much of a choice now.”

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