Page 122 of Versions Of Us

My knees go out from under me when I see his motionless form draped across the hospital bed, his head propped up on the pillow. There’s an oxygen mask strapped over his mouth and nose, his forehead and jawline adorned with purple blue bruising.

I move closer to the bed, my feet dragging with every step. I reach for his hand. There are scratches on his arms, some deeper than others, and a bandage over one that must have been more serious than the rest. He looks utterly helpless lying here, his skin still grey, his lips pale.

I collapse into the chair beside his bed and a loud sob bursts from me. Up until now I’ve been in too much shock to cry actual tears. But now they flow so freely I begin to wonder if they’ll ever stop.

“Alex,” I say, my voice a mere whisper. “What happened?” I sniffle and wipe at the tears streaming down my face, squeezing his hand in mine. Fragments of our last conversation flicker through my mind. “You said you weren’t going anywhere. You’re not meant to leave me again.”

I wait for some kind of sign that he hears me. A twitching of his hand, a change in his breathing.

But it doesn’t come.

I sit in silence for a few minutes longer, watching and waiting. When Officer Greenberg taps on the door, I jump in fright.

“Sorry to disturb you, Kristen.” His expression is genuine, sympathetic. “I was wondering if I could ask you some questions.”

“Okay,” I say. I stand, turning to take one last look at Henley before meeting the officer on the other side of the door.

“How are you doing?” he asks me.

“I’m surviving,” I tell him. I don’t know any other way to describe how I’m feeling at this point.

“I’m sorry you’re going through this, Kristen.”

Officer Greenberg knows me on a first name basis after helping me on the night of the fire at Liv’s house last year. I’d hoped we wouldn’t need to meet again under such dire circumstances.

“We’ve got a list of suspects we think may have been involved.” He pulls out a piece of paper and unfolds it. “Does the name Ethan Davis mean anything to you?”

“Yes. He was the guy that started the fight with Henley. He was hurt in the accident.”

“Yes, that’s correct,” he confirms. “We believe that Ethan was out for revenge on Alex. He’s apparently less than impressed that his prison sentence was cut short.”

“So, this was all an act of vengeance?” I ask.

I’ve never met Ethan Davis, but I already hate him with every fibre of my being.

“There may be more to it than that,” Officer Greenberg replies. “We were hoping you might be able to shed some more light on the situation.”

“I’m sorry. Alex has been pretty tight lipped since he came back to town. He only recently told me about what he went through. I don’t know anything about Ethan Davis that you wouldn’t already know.”

“That’s okay. There is something else though.” Officer Greenberg’s expression softens, and I sense he’s about to unveil more bad news. I pray that I’m wrong. I don’t know how much more I can take today. “I spoke with your friends in the waiting room. They’ve brought to my attention that you’ve recently developed a close relationship with Mackenzie Riley.”

Oh God.

Mackenzie.

The girl Henley rescued from an abusive relationship with Ethan Davis.

Mackenzie, who hasn’t been answering her phone all morning.

“Yes.” My heart begins to race as I explain to the officer how I’ve come to know Mackenzie. “I recently found out that she’s my half-sister. Henley brought her to Cliff Haven. He helped her escape from Ethan.” As I’m saying the words, the puzzle pieces click into place. I realise the serious error I’ve made in not reporting her absence. “Ethan wants revenge on Henley because he took Mackenzie away from him.”

Officer Greenberg nods. “That’s one of our theories. We don’t think he’s working alone. Dylan told us he saw three suspicious looking men on the street before he found Alex inside.”

He looks at me, his expression grim. I get the feeling he has more to say, but I need to find Mackenzie.

“I need to call her again.” I reach into my back pocket for my phone and scroll through my contacts, panic rising in my chest.

“Kristen.” Officer Greenberg places a gentle hand on mine and then he confirms my worst fears. “We can’t find Mackenzie. We think she’s missing.”

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