Counterfeit ✓

Chapter 6

THE PIERCING STAB in her stomach cared Mila opened her eyes. Biting her lip to suppress the pain, she pressed herself up with her elbows and looked around. At first sight, Mila had no idea where she had ended up or how she had gotten there, she rubbed her eyebrow. Jean sat on a chair made of wood, snoring.

"Jean, wake up." Mila pressed her hand to her stomach. "Please."

He didn't hear it. The concert of snoring continued as if nothing else ever existed. Mila shook her head, swung her legs over the edge of her bed, and waited a minute before getting up. As if Jean had noticed her actions from his sleep, he quickly opened his eyes and supported Mila before she tumbled to the floor from the loss of blood.

"What the hell are you doing?" he demanded. "Too weak to get out of bed."

"I don't know where I am or how I got here."

Sighing, Jean put her back on the bed. "Stabbed. We found you at the tents at the back of the camp."

"What was I doing there?"

Jean's face paled. Frowning, Mila thought about why the hell she was lying in the back of the camp and not just in her bed. Endless ideas flowed through her mind, none seemed like a plausible explanation.

The cloud in her brain gave way to a clear sky. Rubbing the back of her neck, she straightened herself using some pillows against her back. Amy. She was there to save Amy and Elody wanted to stop her. Once again, she peered through the tent they'd put her in, it looked far from a prison.

She had to unravel the truth. "Why am I here?"

"Injured?" Jean cocked his head. "This is the hospital tent."

"I know. Why am I here?"

For five minutes, Jean stared at her as if she came from a strange planet and didn't speak the language. Refusing to say the words, asking why she wasn't in jail, Mila looked back without blinking. Finally, Jean shifted back and forth in his chair, rubbing his upper arm. Crystal clear it was. He wouldn't speak without the boss's permission. Mila wondered if this was part of the plan, gaining her trust and then abandoning her. Or worse: kill her. At this point, it seemed like Jean was the one who could wrap her around his finger and deliver the final blow.

"Elody's in jail."

Before commenting on Elody and outing her surprise, Stephen stepped into the tent. Once he noticed she was back to her senses, he smiled and sat down on the edge of the bed. Mila pulled her legs closer to her body. This was all a setup.

"Glad to see things are getting better. You were out like a candle the last few days."

"I'm okay."

"Are you still in pain? Should I get the doctor?"

Mila sucked on the inside of her cheek. "I'm fine."

She repeated her earlier words, surprised that Stephen was being friendly, and didn't arrest her right away. Why didn't they believe Elody's story? She couldn't believe her rival hadn't shared it. From the first minute she'd met them, Elody couldn't stand her. The feeling was also mutual.

"Elody stabbed you. You had heavy bleeding and we found you just in time."

"I-"

"Don't worry," Stephen said, placing his hand on her arm and squeezing it gently. "No one escapes the consequences of stabbing someone. Elody knew them."

Her head throbbed. The cloud pushed back against her brain. She couldn't see why they didn't punish her and blamed Elody. After all, Mila was the person who had broken some rules-she guessed so-and Elody just wanted to protect the camp. As much as she hated Elody, she didn't want her to suffer the consequences of her actions. Sighing, Mila narrowed her eyes, her heart beating in her throat. She was going to draw a line over her own life and wasn't sure it was the right step in the right direction.