FINDING 12 | BOYS OF TOMMEN

believe me.

My head was pounding, each beat echoing through my skull like a drum. I tried to open my eyes, squinting against the sterile, blinding lights overhead. The smell of antiseptic filled my nose, and I felt the rough texture of a hospital blanket beneath my fingertips. A hospital?

A sharp pain throbbed through my side, and I let out a soft groan. I tried to piece together how I got here, my mind sluggish and foggy, as fragmented memories started to resurface—Connor's face, twisted in anger, the shouting, my back hitting the stairs, the sound of my body thudding downward. Panic rose in my chest as I remembered the fall.

"Oh, you're awake!" A nurse appeared at the foot of the bed, her face gentle and warm. She came over, checking my IV, then leaned in a bit closer, giving me a sympathetic smile.

"How long... how long have I been here?" I croaked, my voice scratchy and unfamiliar.

She placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. "You've been out for almost a day. You took a nasty fall down a staircase, and it looks like you hit your head pretty hard. Do you remember any of it?"

I swallowed, my mouth dry as I tried to push through the haze of confusion and pain. "Yeah... I think I remember."

"Just rest," she said softly. "You've got a mild concussion and some bruised ribs. You're lucky—this could've been a lot worse."

Her words hung in the air, but I barely heard them. The pieces of last night were starting to sharpen in my mind. I'd been arguing with Connor. I remembered him grabbing me, his anger, the way he'd looked at me right before I'd fallen. A shiver went down my spine.

The nurse gave me one last gentle pat on the shoulder. "There are some people waiting outside for you—your family and some friends. They've been here since last night. Would you like me to send them in?"

I nodded slowly, feeling too exhausted to process much of anything. A moment later, she disappeared, and the door opened again. Aunt Trish entered first, her face etched with worry, followed by my cousin Aoife and Joey, who was holding her hand. Behind them came Eloise, my best friend, her eyes wide and filled with a mix of relief and worry.

And finally, Connor stepped in, his face pale and tight, his eyes shadowed with something between guilt and regret. He looked smaller than usual, almost fragile as he lingered near the back of the group, watching me cautiously.

Aunt Trish moved to my side, smoothing back my hair. "Oh, sweetheart, we were so worried about you," she murmured, her voice thick with relief. "They said you fell down the stairs."

I nodded slightly, but my gaze drifted to Connor, whose expression was carefully controlled, his eyes locked on me as if he were trying to read my mind.

Blair stop being so quiet!
Tell them!

Connor cleared his throat and took a hesitant step forward, his voice soft, full of what sounded like regret. "It all happened so fast," he began, his voice almost a whisper. "You... you were so upset, and I tried to calm you down, but you slipped before I could catch you."

My heart raced, my mind replaying his words, trying to make sense of them. "I slipped?" I asked, my voice barely audible, each word feeling like it didn't quite belong to me.

Connor nodded, his face earnest, his eyes focused entirely on me. "Yeah," he continued, his voice low and almost... comforting. "You were trying to pull away from me, and you lost your balance. It was an accident. I tried to reach you, but..." He looked down, his shoulders slumping as if weighed down by guilt. "I couldn't get to you in time."

I felt his words settle over me like a fog, making me doubt the sharp, painful memories I'd woken up with. Had I really just slipped? Could I have been so upset that I'd misremembered everything?

Joey cleared his throat, and I glanced over, noticing the uncomfortable expression he wore. His eyes flicked from me to Connor, a frown deepening on his face. Aoife, too, was watching Connor carefully, her lips pressed into a thin line, her hand clenching Joey's tightly. Eloise bit her lip, her gaze shifting between us, like she was trying to figure out if she should say something.

I looked back at Connor, who was still standing there, looking at me with a careful mix of sorrow and what seemed like guilt. He leaned in closer, his voice low and soothing. "I'm so, so sorry. I never wanted you to get hurt. I wish... I wish I could go back and do things differently."

The doubt started to creep in, slipping through the cracks. Could it really have been as he said? He seemed so genuine, so full of remorse. I searched his face for any trace of deceit, but all I saw was that careful look of pain.

Eloise took a step forward, her brow furrowing. "So... you're saying she just slipped?" Her voice was cautious, skeptical, as if she were trying to make sense of something that didn't quite add up.

Connor turned to her, his face softening. "She was just really upset. I tried to stop her, but she was pulling away from me. I would never... I'd never hurt her, Eloise." He looked down, as if wounded, playing the part of the guilt-ridden boyfriend.

Joey exchanged a look with Aoife, who pursed her lips, her eyes narrowing slightly. I could feel their doubt, their unease hanging heavy in the air, but none of them said anything more. They just watched, as if waiting for me to decide whether or not to believe him.

I wanted to question him, to push back against the growing fog of confusion. But the exhaustion, the ache in my ribs and head, made it so much easier to just sink back into the bed and let the fog take over. Maybe... maybe I was just too upset last night to see things clearly. Maybe Connor really was telling the truth.

He squeezed my hand, his voice gentle and pleading. "Please, just... believe me. I would never hurt you."

I felt myself nodding, my head heavy as his words settled over me like a blanket. In that moment, I let myself believe him, too tired to keep questioning, too hurt to keep pushing.