I tried to speak, but my jaw… my jaw didn’t work. Blood, hot and fast, bubbled over my lips.
Then, the sound that haunts my nightmares began. Laughter.
“At least now you’re pretty,” Madison shrieked, clutching her stomach. “Oh my god, did you see her face?”
And Travis? The polite investment banker? He was laughing too. A deep, genuine belly laugh, as if my shattered bones were the punchline to the world’s greatest joke.
“I think one hit wasn’t enough,” Madison smirked, wiping a tear of mirth from her eye.
My mother smiled—actually smiled—and tossed the heavy iron wrench to my sister. “Well, you have a go.”
Terror, cold and primal, flooded my veins. I scrambled backward, trying to shield my head, but a shadow fell over me. My father.
He didn’t help me up. He didn’t call 911. His massive hands clamped around my wrists, pinning me to the floor. “Hold still,” he said calmly.
I looked up, screaming silently through a broken jaw, as Madison raised the wrench.
The fluorescent lights of the emergency room were aggressive, burning through my eyelids before I could even open them. The sounds of the hospital—the beep of monitors, the squeak of rubber soles—felt like they were underwater.
“Miss Harper? Can you hear me?”
A nurse with kind eyes hovered over me. I tried to nod, but a lance of pain shot through my skull, so intense I nearly passed out again.
“Don’t move, sweetheart,” she whispered, gently restraining my hand as I reached for my face. “You have a fractured orbital bone, a severe concussion, and significant damage to your jaw and cheekbone. Your jaw is wired shut.”
Wired shut. The words floated in the air.
“The police are here,” she added softly. “They need to know what happened.”
Police.
