34. Lilith
CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR
T he water shut off with a hollow groan, the last droplets pattering against the tiled floor. I stood there for a moment, steam curling around me, my skin burning hot from the shower but my insides ice-cold.
“Lilith?” The voice was soft, calm, feminine. “Are you done in there?”
“Yeah,” I murmured. “Be right out.”
My fingers twitched at my sides, reluctant to move, reluctant to leave. But I stepped forward, turning toward the mirror, reaching blindly for a towel—
I jumped out of my damn skin.
“What the fuck, Evelyn?” I snapped, voice sharp to cover the tremor beneath it. “Do you not know how to knock?”
Black and purple bloomed across her ribs, wrapping around her arms like something rotten. There was a deep gash across her temple—thick, swollen stitches pinning the flesh together. Her eyes were both sunken and swollen, a sickly mix of purples and greens.
I exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through my wet hair. “Wayne really did a number on you this time, huh?”
She didn’t answer. Didn’t move. Just stared.
“You look… different, Evelyn. When did your hair get so long?”
No word.
“Are you gonna stand there gawking at me all day, or can I go now?” I muttered, reaching for a towel.
“Lilith? Are you okay in there?” The soft voice came again, startling me.
“Yeah, I’m good! Be one sec.”
I pulled a towel from the rack—and so did Evelyn.
I reached for the door, fingers curling around the handle.
“You know you could just leave him, right? And all of this… it w ould stop.”
She turned at the same time as me, perfectly in sync.
I frowned. “You’re being really weird today,” I muttered, tightening the towel around myself. “I’ll see you later.”
I stepped out of the bathroom and a woman’s voice greeted me. “Lilith! Do you feel better?”
“Yeah, sure. Evelyn’s just being Evelyn.”
A pause. “Oh, I’m sorry sweetie. I have some clothes set out for you there. You can get dressed for me and then call me in when you’re done.”
“Okay,” I mumbled, already turning toward the pile of fabric waiting for me.
I pulled the shirt over my head, then tugged on the sweatpants.
I frowned, pinching at the excess fabric around my waist.
Had I lost weight?
I pulled my socks on, flexing my toes against the fabric, then ran my hands through my wet hair.
“Alright,” I called out. “I’m dressed.”
The woman stepped back into my bedroom and smiled. “Ah, much better. Can you sit down for me?”
I nodded and lowered myself onto the edge of the bed. I winced, sucking in a slow breath through my teeth as pain licked up my spine. A sharp reminder that, yeah, I’d definitely been forced through a meat grinder.
The woman crouched slightly, levelling with me. “We’re going to put in a fresh IV for you, okay?”
I nodded, watching as she unwrapped the supplies.
“Wait,” I frowned, glancing between her and the needle. “What’s that for?”
She gave me a reassuring smile. “For everything, sweetie. You’re on a rotation of painkillers, anti-inflammatories, fluids, and antibiotics.”
My brain processed that slowly, the words swirling and sinking. I let out a breathy laugh. “Seems a bit overkill.”
She didn’t respond, just rolled up my sleeve, cleaned the skin, and inserted the fresh needle. Then secured it in place with tape, attaching it with all the bits and pieces I had no idea how to name.
My eyes stayed locked on her hands, watching the way the tubing settled into place, the way the clear liquid started its slow drip through the line.
“Do you know how long this’ll take?” I asked. “I need to make dinner soon or Wayne will kick my ass, and I’m really not in the mood for that.”
“Who’s Wayne?” That wasn’t the woman’s voice. That was deeper. A man.
“My stepdad,” I muttered, gaze still fixed on my arm.
“Why would he kick your ass?” The male voice said.
“Becaus e if I don’t make dinner, he’ll be hungry. And if he’s hungry, he’s angry,” I snorted softly, shifting my arm slightly against the bed. “And you wouldn’t like him when he’s angry.”
The room was completely silent.
I huffed out a small breath, shaking my head. “Jesus. Tough crowd.”
“Your stepdad isn’t here,” the man’s voice said.
My spine went rigid. “Where is he? How long’s he gone for this time?”
“I don’t know.”
I let out a short, sharp snort. “That’s not useful.”
“I’m sorry,” the man said, voice quieter this time.
“It’s fine,” I shrugged, keeping my focus on the IV. “He usually does this after he does that to Evelyn.”
“What does she mean?” The man whispered.
“I don’t know, honey.” The woman replied.
“Lilith, I need to ask you something.”
I let out a sigh. “Shoot. Go for it.”
“Do you know who your psychiatrist is?”
“I don’t have one of those,” I scoffed.
“Do you know who your doctor is?”
“Uh… Riverside Family Medical Clinic. Meadowbrook Drive.”
The woman started packing up her things, tucking gauze and alcohol wipes back into a small metal tray, snapping a cap back onto a vial, then securing the IV line.
“That’s in Maine, Lilith.”
“Yeah?” I frowned.
“You don’t live in Maine.”
“Okay, next joke.”
The quiet stretched and stretched, until something cold and uneasy started to settle in my gut.
I forced a smile. “Seriously, what kind of—”
“Lilith.” His voice was soft. Careful. And it made my skin crawl. I felt him step closer, the shift of air, the faint sound of movement.
“You live in Seattle, sweetheart.”
I let out a sharp laugh. “No. I definitely don’t.”
I flinched as the woman’s hand met my arm, every muscle locking up. “I’ll be back later on to check on you. You try to get some rest, okay sweetie?”
I nodded, still too focused on the IV taped to my arm, the throbbing ache in my skull, the way my whole body felt like one giant bruise.
“I’ll be back in six hours, Mr. Graves,” she said.
He hummed in acknowledgment. “Okay. Thank you.”
Mr. Grave s? Who the fuck was Mr. Graves?
A chair creaked somewhere in the room. I tracked the sound, my pulse flickering unsteadily beneath my skin.
“Do you remember what happened?” he asked.
My tongue went dry as I shifted on the bed. “Do I remember what happened when?”
“Five days ago.”
I frowned. Five days? What the hell happened five days ago? My last clear memory was… what? Wait. What was my last memory?
I tried to claw into something solid, something real, but everything was loose threads slipping through my fingers.
White-hot pain explodes, my head snaps sideways with a sickening crack. Stars burst behind my eyes.
“You ungrateful bitch! After everything I fucking did for you—”
My body launched forward, driven by some deep need to get away, to escape. But the moment my feet hit the floor, the room tilted, my knees buckling beneath me.
A hand grabbed my arm, steadying me. Strong. Warm. Too close.
“Don’t touch me!” I choked out, yanking myself away.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his hands falling away immediately.
My pulse hammered in my ears, the floor swayed beneath me, my ribs ached with each ragged breath.
What the fuck was going on?
I latched onto the only thing I could control. “I need you to leave.”
“Lilith, please—”
“Leave!” My voice broke.
The air stretched thin and fragile, until I finally heard the quiet shuffle of movement, a door clicking shut.
Something inside me swayed, unsteady, like I was balancing on a fraying tightrope.
I climbed into the bed, trying not to snag the IV in my arm.
Why was there an IV in my arm?
My breath hitched, pulse stuttering as I carefully touched the taped line on my skin. My stomach twisted. My sheets felt wrong. My bed felt wrong.
I squeezed my eyes shut and pulled the covers up over my head, as if that could block out the wrongness curling around me.
Five days.
Five days were missing.
The thought pressed against the inside of my skull, too big to fit into the cracks of my fractured memory. My fingers curled into the sheets, gripping them tight, as if I could squeeze the missing time from the fabric, force it back into my hands.
But there was nothing .
Just blankness.
The smell of bacon and something else wafted toward me as I made my way to the counter. The coffee machine sat where it always did, but—new. Sleek. Different.
I frowned. Had I upgraded it?
That seemed right. I must have.
How the hell was I supposed to work this thing?
I jabbed a few buttons. Useless.
I turned and made my way to the island, sitting down on one of the stools.
When did I get an island?
What was I supposed to do today?
I tried to run through a list, but everything felt loose, unformed. Maybe I’d go to work. Maybe I had errands to run. Maybe—
A plate of eggs and bacon slid in front of me.
Huh.
“Did you sleep okay?” A man’s voice broke the silence.
I picked up my fork and took a bite. “Yeah.”
Had I made these? I couldn’t remember.
I took another bite anyway.
When I’d finished, I stood, stretching my arms above my head, and immediately regretted it. Pain shot through my ribs, sharp and deep, like something was pulling apart inside me and I folded in on myself, arms wrapping around my midsection.
“Slow down,” the man’s voice said.
I exhaled through gritted teeth. “I’m fine.”
“You should sit down. Can I touch you?”
“Yeah, sure.”
A hand pressed lightly against the small of my back, guiding me to sink down onto the couch. The cushions were too plush, too deep. Had I always had this?
My eyes drifted shut, and I took a deep breath.
The couch shifted beside me. “Do you know what’s going on?”
I swallowed, rolling my shoulders as I tried to sink further into the warmth of the cushions. “I’m hurting,” I murmured. “And I’m tired.”
“Yes,” the voice said carefully. “But do you know what’s happened?”
“No,” I sighed.
“Do you know where you are?”
The quest ion made my brows pull together. “What kind of question is that?”
“Do you know who I am?”
I sighed, tilting my head back against the couch. “Not a clue. Sorry, buddy.”
“Lilith! Get here right now!” A shrill voice cut through the air.