Chapter 21
The shot was dead–on.
Caught her square in the forehead.
Blood welled up so fast, it made her tumble down the stairs that morning look tame by
comparison.
Frank stared in shock, his body moving before his mind could catch up.
He shoved Elissa away, anger flaring in his voice, cold and laced with disappointment. “What the hell are you doing? Elissa, was all that sweetness and kindness just an act?”
Elissa crashed to the floor, stunned by the sudden force. She met his accusing gaze,
dazed and silent.
He was right.
It had all been an act.
But this time, she was done pretending.
Frank hadn’t expected her to be so fragile, not after everything she’d been through. The realization made him pause.
Marcia clutched her forehead, her voice trembling with tears. “Frankie! It hurts so much–I’m bleeding everywhere…”
He couldn’t think about anything else. Sweeping Marcia into his arms, he hurried out of
the room.
Just before he left, Frank glanced back, worry flickering in his eyes.
That single look hit him like a punch to the gut.
There she was–the girl who’d once promised to marry him–staring at him with eyes as clear as black and white, but now utterly devoid of feeling.
Not even the bare politeness you’d give a stranger.
The IV bottle smashed against the floor, yanking the needle from her hand.
Bright blood streamed down Elissa’s pale, slender wrist, dripping steadily.
She barely seemed to notice. Instead, she gripped the bedframe, knuckles blanched, fighting her way to her feet. Her thin body swayed, but she refused to let go.
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13:31
Chapter 21
That’s the moment Tanya Foster walked in.
She startled, rushing over to press a wad of gauze against Elissa’s bleeding hand, steadying her with the other. “What on earth happened? You’re bleeding all over, and you didn’t even call for a nurse–what were you thinking?”
What was she thinking?
Elissa gave a faint, bitter smile.
She was thinking–it wasn’t worth it.
Three years of genuine feeling, and in the end, maybe none of it was worth it.
Tanya frowned, helping her back onto the bed. “What’s going on? Edna called and said you were pushed down the stairs?”
Tanya acted like she hadn’t heard. She wiped up the blood on the IV bottle with an alcohol pad and tossed it in the trash. “Weapon? Please. It’s just an IV bottle that slipped and broke, nothing more.”
Days passed, and no police ever showed up at her hospital room. Marcia never filed a
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