To Slow a Treacherous Heart ✓

08| A Confused Confession

Publish Date: 26th March 2019, Tuesday

Chapter Eight: A Confused Confession

May 2018 {A Day Later}

The pungent smell of clean syringes and medicine wafted up her nostrils when she came to. Her eyes opened into a blurry haze of bright whites and calm blues. When her gaze cleared, she realized she was on a bed. In a hospital.

She tried to push herself up, but a dizzy nausea overtook her, sending her spiralling back into her previous position.

She suddenly remembered forgetting to take her pills in the morning. No wonder she'd had a panic attack.

And Ryan obviously had to magically appear; making everything a lot worse.

It was, today wasn't it?

How long had she been out?

Movement beside her made her turn her attention towards it; where she saw Mrs Williams sitting, her hands delicately poised over her stomach and her head leaned back on the chair as she slept.

Soft snores emanated from her, and May wanted to giggle.

She opened her mouth, then realized her throat was too parched for her to speak. She looked around and found a glass of water on a small table on her right.

This time, she slowly pushed herself up using her hands into a sitting position.

She then reached over and pulled the glass into her grasp. After gulping its contents down, she put it back on the table.

"Maybelle, dear! How are you feeling?" Mrs Williams scratchy voice made her snap her head back; slightly startled.

The dizziness ebbed.

"Better now," She rasped. "Can I have more water?"

"Absolutely." Pricilla Williams said, her pronounced British accent betraying her origins.

She glided towards the table, refilled her glass and handed it to her. May cleared her throat, finally quenching her thirst after the second glass.

"You're very lucky that Ryan was with you when you fainted." Whispered Pricilla.

What? No, No, No!

May's heart started to beat faster, but she tried to school her emotions. She didn't need to have another panic attack. Not when there was a killer on the loose and her brother immobile.

"He killed my parents," she growled, her eyes narrowed. "Why is he here?"

"Maybelle. This is highly irregular. Your parents were killed by a lone gunman, not Ryan," Pricilla said, her tone a horrified whisper.

Her eyes were narrow and a little annoyed.

"How many times do I have to say it?" May replied, equally annoyed. "It wasn't an unidentified gunman. It was a known man. Ryan Alejandro Martinez. I wasn't drugged, I wasn't delusional, and I hadn't fainted after wrapping my brother in a bandage."

"Not this again. Maybelle, all of us agreed that you were under immense stress. You yourself said-"

"I agreed after that because of the look on Jason's face. He had adored him. He'd gone through enough pain for a six-year-old."

"Oh dear," Pricilla clasped her hands over her forehead. Then her eyes clouded, and her forehead crinkled as she drew her brows closer. "Speak to Ryan, he can clear everything up. Maybelle you have to speak to Ryan."