Connection | 18+

Chapter Nine

 ETHAN:

  The fluorescent lights of the hospital flicker overhead, casting a sterile, cold glow on the linoleum floor as I lean against the wall, arms crossed. The faint smell of antiseptic lingers in the air, and the distant hum of machines reminds me of where we are.

   I hate hospitals.

   The only reason I can ever tolerate it is for my brother. And now, she has changed that too.

   The sterile smell, the soft hum of machinery, the coldness that clung to the walls-none of it doesn't sit well with me.

   It always reminds me of a time I never want to remember.

   I sigh and rub my face in frustration. Part of me wanted to call Daniel and tell him to deal with his own sister. It wasn't my responsibility to fix the mess his sister was making in her life.

   But I couldn't bring myself to do it. Maybe it was because, when she'd asked me to keep her in line, I'd taken it seriously— too seriously. Even if she didn't give me a chance to talk to her after that.

   Now, it wasn’t just about keeping her from spiraling—it was about making sure I didn’t let her fall like I had with the others. I couldn’t let her be another name on my list of regrets.

   It wasn't just about her popping pills or snorting powder and driving off like she had nothing to lose—it was the way she lied about it so easily like it was second nature. Like she hadn't been the one to make the choice. She acted like some innocent victim, claiming someone else had drugged her.

   But I knew better. She was responsible, and she knew it.

   I've seen those doe eyes before, the ones she used to fool everyone, even the cop. It was a performance; those witch-crafted tears and shaky voice. The officer fell for it.

   But she wasn't fooling me. Not for a  second.

   The nurse steps out, leaving the room in a thick silence. I move closer to Olivia, watching as she leans forward, eyes glued to the floor, her shoulders hunched in a way that screams guilt. She bites down on her lower lip, a nervous habit I've noticed before.

   Her voice comes out soft, almost a whisper. "Can you please not tell Dan about what happened?"

   I stare at her for a beat, trying to make sense of her request. There's a part of me that wants to call Dan right now in front of her and let him deal with this mess. But instead, I wait, wondering if she really thinks this will stay hidden.

   "Do you really think that?" I ask, baffled, gripping her chin and forcing her to meet my eyes. Her gaze wavers, growing wet with unshed tears, but I wasn't buying it. "Do you have any idea what could've happened? You could have killed someone. You could've seriously gotten hurt, or worse—dead."

   The tears begin to fall, one by one, and my eyes narrow, studying them. Were they real or fake? Just like her lies?

   Something tightens in my chest as I watch her crumble under my scrutiny.

   "I really don't know how it happened-" she stammers.

   My grip tightens on her chin, my eyes hardening. "Don't lie to me."

   Her eyes harden in an instant, and I have to blink back my shock. How easily can she lie to my face? One second, she's trembling and teary-eyed, the next, she's composed, almost defiant. It's like flipping a switch.

   I grit my teeth. "You're really going to  keep this up?"

   "You can't tell Daniel."

   "You know he could help you if you go to jail for harming public property and jeopardizing lives," I say, my grip on her chin loosening, though my tone remains sharp.