Blanca Like Snow

Chapter 11 - Monster

"I'll go call Mum," Nora tells me. "I'm sure she'll be more helpful than he, and I'll also ask her what to do about him. He recognises you, hence the coverup is basically ruined. We either get him to help or we leave."

"Ugh," I groan, rubbing my hands against my face. "As if things weren't complicated enough, now we have to deal with him."

Nora grabs my good hand to give me an encouraging squeeze before she heads somewhere different to have a peaceful call, while I follow Will inside Clarisse's office. He is already sitting on her desk when I close the door behind me, nonchalant attitude as he inspects his nails.

"So, what does the dead girl want from me?" he asks, not bothering to look at me.

"Missing, not dead," I correct him. "Do you need to refer to me like that? And if you'd bother to look at me you could see I'm here, breathing, technically alive."

"That's not what the papers say." He looks up, shrugging with one shoulder and keeping the grimace. "They keep saying my people killed you, ignoring what we say, making us go through a living hell. Thank you for that, Dead Girl."

My fists clench at my sides as I try to control my temper. I get he is upset because the blame is being thrown at them, and he might be innocent but we don't really know the responsible of the attack. It could've been a group of extremist activists, just as much as it could've been my stepmother. There are no proofs, just the fact someone tried to kill me. If he is mad about it, then what about me?

"Well, I don't see anyone trying to kill you, sending your car down the hill, crushing bones and making your organs bleed. I don't see you barely escaping before said car blew up, so I'm sorry if I can't be that sympathetic. Furthermore, I'd appreciate if you stop calling me dead girl because I almost died!" I've raised my voice with every word, practically yelling at him by the end and he seems shocked, even a bit regretful.

His eyes dart to his left and I use that chance to take a breath and calm myself down. I won't accomplish anything from getting in an argument with him or shouting like a crazy person.

"We didn't do that to you."

"I'm not saying you or your friends did it, but someone tried to kill me and I really don't need your attitude," I continue, trying a calmer tone. "Someone wants me dead and I'm just trying to stay safe. I'd appreciate if you could help with that instead of telling the press or anyone I'm here or that I actually remember."

"But why should I do that? Everyone is looking for you and if you don't show up, it's worse for us. Do you know I had to spend a whole night at the police station because I was being interrogated about you?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. That surely is worse than spending two days unconscious in the hospital or having your ribs, leg and arm broken... or even worse than going under surgery because of the internal bleeding!" My sarcasm doesn't make him feel bad about his words or attitude, it only worsens things.

"And I have to apologise for that? Even if I have nothing to do with it? I have to pay the consequences?" Will snaps, jumping from the desk and charging at me. I'd move back, but it's actually quite hard and a slow process. "How I see it, the best is if I just call the policeman that interrogated me and tell him you're here. Problem solved! and you're back where you belong."

"And then whoever did this to me strikes again and success! I'm dead. You'll surely be happy about that, won't you?" Clumsily, I take also a step towards him, keeping my head high and my jaw set.

He doesn't stop or retreat, he keeps charging and it's a bit intimidating when we are face-to-face, considering he's probably a bit more than 180 cm and looks at me with so much rage in his eyes.