Shattered Souls

Chapter 14

I lay awake that night listening to Jonah's breathing, now completely unable to sleep for fear that he would stop breathing altogether. My parents and Drew were dozing in chairs scattered around his bed, breathing deeply and evenly. As petty as it sounded, I envied them.

I knew each of them had individual issues that they struggled with, most of which I knew nothing about. But as bad as those problems may have been, they didn't have guilt, anger, regret, and grief eating at them twenty-four hours a day. They didn't have memories that haunted them with every breath. Yes, I knew Drew still struggled with the memories of Carla and Ella, even if he didn't say it aloud.

Yes, I knew there were still times when a shadow would cross over his face, eyes darkening as he retreated into himself. And yes, I knew that he struggled with those emotions as well. But he didn't have the constant weight pressing down on him with every breath, every heartbeat. The small voice in the back of his head whispering to him his every flaw, picking them apart and telling him how weak he was, how pathetic and worthless...

Without me consciously realizing it, my hands had balled into fists, my body trembling with barely-restrained anger. I hated the warring emotions that plagued me daily. I hated the ever-present voice, twin to the devils on my shoulders. I hated the depression that smothered me with every breath, pushing me deeper and deeper into that abyss of nothingness.

I could barely see past the red haze blanketing my vision. Silently, I rose from the chair and slipped out of Jonah's room. It was just past midnight, and the hospital was still save for doctors and nurses on the night shift.

I reached the entrance in seconds, barely able to contain the scream tangling in my throat. Raw anger, pain, grief, and regret poured off my body in waves. Only when my voice was hoarse did I finally close my mouth, the adrenaline receding slightly. But it didn't go away entirely, leaving me with restless energy.

By sheer luck, I spotted a cluster of boulders near the hospital, virtually hidden by a tangle of seaweed. Without hesitation, I swam in front of them, my hands trembling at my sides. Instead of cold, hard stone, I envisioned Mr. and Mrs. Maxwell, the surprise and shock on their faces when I introduced myself and told them who I was.

I saw Jonah's face as I sobbed, then poured my heart out, releasing those pent-up emotions I had locked away for who knew how long. I saw the worry and concern in his eyes as I'd done so, then the love in his eyes as I'd finished, and he'd put a hand on my cheek.

Unsurprisingly, tears welled up in my eyes as I drew back my fists and punched one of the boulders as hard as I could. I barely felt the skin split open, the blood trickling through my fingers. The pain barely registered in the back of my head, a dull ache instead of full-on throbbing.

All I could see was Mr. Maxwell's harsh expression; all I could hear was his loud, stern voice as he yelled at Dr. Murphy. "'I don't know what happened, but our son is in there! We have a right to see him!'"

As if they hadn't lost the right to call him their son a long time ago—as if they hadn't all but disowned him after what happened with Kailani. Anger crashed into me in waves, fueled by the adrenaline coursing through my body. After a while, the adrenaline slowly faded, replaced by overwhelming and numbing exhaustion.

I was breathing heavily when I finally straightened, my chest heaving. When I glimpsed my hands—the raw, split skin, the blood smeared across my knuckles and fingers—the pain hit me full-on. Lightning sliced through my fingers whenever I tried to straighten them. I wouldn't have been surprised if I'd accidentally broken a finger or two.

Suddenly, I felt as if someone had flipped a switch inside me. I scrubbed at my face, erasing any trace of agony, anger, and grief. I'd worked hard to be able to push my emotions to the very back of my heart, to be able to close them off. My face went blank, my eyes expressionless.

When I finally swam back into the hospital, Dad was waiting anxiously inside. Relief crossed his face, quickly followed by concern when he glimpsed my own. His eyes darkened, but he didn't say anything, not even when he noticed my raw and bruised knuckles. He just slipped an arm around my shoulder, drawing me close.

"C'mon, honey," he said softly, guiding me back to Jonah's room. When we reached his door, I saw the surprise on Dad's face when he noticed the door was slightly ajar. The low voices inside were almost impossible to decipher.

Dad pushed the door open, stopping in the doorway as multiple pairs of eyes turned and met his gaze. Jonah's face was pale, his eyes wary but alert. That wasn't what made my heart stop dead in my chest, though. It was the mermaid and merman beside his bed, faces alight with tentative hope. I wordlessly shook my head, meeting Jonah's gaze.

His eyes softened as they met mine. "You've already been introduced." He wasn't angry, even though disappointment coated his words. When his eyes fell on my bruised and bloody knuckles, concern surfaced in his eyes.

Dr. Murphy followed his gaze to my now-trembling hands. Her eyes darkened as she opened her mouth, but when she met my gaze, her expression softened. "I was just telling Mr. Maxwell that if he feels up to it, he can be released today. If he doesn't engage in any strenuous activity for the next few weeks, he should be fully recovered from his injuries in no time."

Kyle, who'd been monitoring the glances Jonah and I exchanged, spoke up, his voice soft. "We in no way want to come between you and Jonah, nor the relationship between the four of you." Confusion filled me at his wording, but when a hand gently grabbed mine, I met Mom's gaze, her eyes wide.

Adrienne nodded, her eyes briefly meeting Jonah's before shifting to my face. "While we deeply regret our actions in the past and how they affected our relationship, we understand and will respect whatever decision you make." There was regret and longing in her gaze when she looked at her son again.

Dr. Murphy cleared her throat, causing all of us to jolt. "If there's nothing else, I have the discharge papers for Mr. Maxwell." She focused on Jonah as she handed him the papers under her arm. When she turned to me, her eyes softened yet again. "In the meantime, why don't we see if we can't do something about your hands."

I blinked at her, having momentarily forgotten about my hands, the bruising and pain. Indeed, the skin on my knuckles was raw, scraped, and angry. My fingers ached from keeping both hands curled in fists for so long, but again, the pain was distant. Secondary. She gently took my arm and led me into another massive room filled with rows of sinks and racks of towels and soap. It was the hospital laundry room.

Without hesitation, she swam to one such rack, grabbed a towel and a bar of soap, then swam back to me. She gently rubbed the soap on the towel, then carefully cleaned the dirt and dried blood off my knuckles and hands. I winced but didn't whimper. "Can you straighten your fingers at all?" She asked softly, her face and voice expressionless.

Taking a deep breath, I focused for several seconds on trying to coax my fingers to straighten out. Sweat beaded on my forehead as I panted from the pain. Finally, I managed to uncurl each finger, my hands trembling wildly. Lightning sliced through them, sharp as a dagger's point.

Her face was thoughtful as she watched me. "As I'd suspected, you fractured nearly all of your fingers and severely bruised your knuckles. If you hadn't stopped when you did, I suspect we'd be in the middle of a very different conversation."

She grabbed gauze from a drawer near one of the sinks, unwrapping it as she swam back to me. "I advise letting the fractures heal the rest of the way themselves. Change the gauze if the wounds begin to bleed, but otherwise, try to carry on with your daily life as much as possible." Her eyes held mine for a moment as she finished wrapping my knuckles.

I nodded. "Thank you," I whispered. Dr. Murphy gave me a simple nod in response.

When we returned to Jonah's room, he was dressed and ready to go. He was chatting with Mom and Dad, their voices relaxed and friendly. Drew was with them. The former's eyes lit up when they met mine. "Ready to go?" My voice was soft as I spoke.

He kissed me on the cheek, then nodded. Dr. Murphy's words repeatedly played in my head as we swam home. "'I advise letting the fractures heal the rest of the way themselves.'" I knew she hadn't just been talking about my injuries. No matter what, I would never stand in the way of Jonah getting to know his parents. I could only hope the fractures weren't too severe to be repaired.

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