❥ I was in and out for the next couple of hours. There were faint voices, but eventually my head hurt too much so I ignored them. My left leg hurt and my stomach was killing me.
When I woke up again, the sun was seeping through the blinds. I wasn't in a hospital, but I knew this wasn't Hawthorne House. Or maybe it was, maybe it was another one of Tobias Hawthorne's wierd ass rooms.
It had to have been the next day, because last I woke up it was dark out.
"Hello."
I turned to my left and see Rebecca Laughlin standing by the door. She inched forward a little bit before stopping, not wanting to get too close, evidently. "Oh—hey?"
"Sorry, I can leave if—"
"No, no." I quickly respond, "I just wasn't expecting you. Is this your house?"
Her shoulders drop, and she seemingly looks more relaxed. "Yeah.. it's not as good as Hawthorne house but it's something."
"The bed is comfy."
She laughs, "I'm glad you think so." There's a minute of silence before she takes another few steps foward. "Do you remember anything?"
The woods. Grayson. Blood.
"I know I was—" Shot. I looked down at my stomach to see bandages and stained blood on my sweater.
"I would have given you new clothes but I didn't know if you felt comfortable.. with somebody changing you."
I smiled, "It's okay, besides my favorite sweatshirt getting stained." Rebecca's small smile fades to a frown and I immediately feel the need to take my joke back. "I was just kidding."
"Hmm, okay." Why does she look like she's studying me? "Well, let me know if you need anything." I nodded and she quickly exited the room, not giving me another glance.
My phone starts ringing on the nightstand next to me and without moving, I fling my arm to it, barely able to reach my phone. Once I have it my hands, I answer the call.
"Hello?"
"Oh gosh, I was so worried." Avery's voice is laced with concern. I hadn't even gotten to ask if she was okay, considering she did almost get shot as well.
"I'm okay, don't worry."
A beat passed. "Is Grayson there? Nobody knows where he went." Grayson. His hands in my hair, his sweet nothing whispers.
"I— no. Was he okay?"
"He thinks it's his fault. Everything. He's scared to see you." A sharp pain slices through my chest, and it's not from my wound. It's for him.
"I want to see him. Where is he?"
There's a pause. "Ev, you can't get out of bed."
A small smirk forms on my lips. "Says who?"
"Your body, idiot!" Riling Avery up was one of my favorite activities to participate in. I knew I couldn't get out of bed, but it was nice to have some humor around here. "Look, just, relax for now, okay? I'll come visit you soon."
"Oh gosh, where are you?"
"I may be figuring something out—"
"With Jameson."
"Okay gotta go!" Before I can respond Avery hangs up the phone. Such a lovable idiot.
—
❥
The next day, I was moved back to Hawthorne House. It was pretty embarrassing being moved in a stretcher, but I made due. I still saw no sign of Grayson, and my heart ached at the thought of him being upset.
There was more to him than he cared to admit. He was hurting even when he was supposed to be the strong one. First her, then Emily, now Evelyn.
The one plus side of being trapped in a room all day was it gave me time to think. I had run my hands over Tobias Hawthorne's message more times than I could count. What's lost is meant to be found.
Nothing made sense. Her. Tobias letter, the strange way Grayson had looked at me when he saw me for the first time. The flicker in his eyes when I told him my name was Evelyn. I had never felt more helpless than right now. My body ached from being shot, but my heart ached for answers. For more.
I had been stitched up when I was sleeping back at the cottage, and the bullet was taken out of me. Everything still hurt like hell, but I worked through it.
Examining the letter for a second time, I squinted my eyes at the rough indent on the back of the page. And then it hit me: Hawthorne's love their invisible ink.
There was one problem: I couldn't get out of bed.
Well, I shouldn't.
Alisa had given me crutches. When Grayson had attempted to move me out of the car, my leg was on a twisted angle and pop, there went the bone in my left leg.
Bracing myself, I shifted on the bed, a sharp paining shooting through my stomach. This was probably the dumbest idea I had ever come up with, but I was sick of waiting for the truth. I was coming to find it.
I stifled a groan when I reached for the crutches. Placing them under my arms immediately, I looked into the mirror and lifted my shirt slightly. It revealed my stomach, my bruised and bloody stomach. Don't throw up.
Good thing Jameson, Xander, and avery were all at school. Alisa and Oren were off trying to catch an attempted murderer and Nash was probably saving somebody. Libby had her ex to deal with.
And, if we're being technical, so did I. But that was the least of my concerns right now. As I crutch walked through the halls of Hawthorne House, my first stop was Xander's room. He had the invisible ink, I had seen him with it a couple of days before i'd been shot.
"You are an idiot." I turned my head to face the voice but I was (gently) pinned against the wall in seconds. Dammit— there was one Hawthorne resident I hadn't accounted for.
Grayson.
"What the fuck are you doing, Evelyn?"
"I'm not gonna sit locked up—"
He shook his head. "You almost died, so you are going to sit locked up." His eyes wandered down to the wound on my stomach, and to my broken leg. "Does it hurt?"
I paused.
That was the last thing I had expected him to say, and I was at a loss for words.
"Yes."
He sighed, inching closer to me and i'm brought with an immediate sense of deja vu. Less than two days ago, we were just like this against a tree, and now..
"Come on, back to bed."
"Grayson—"
He rolled his eyes and shoved my crushes aside, picking me up in his arms. I winced at the sharp pain in my stomach, and he brushed stands of hair out of my face.
Walking back to my room, he said two words I hadn't prepared for. It came out as a whisper, and I almost missed it.
"I'm sorry."
Silence took over the atmosphere. I ached for him to know it was okay. It's not his fault I almost died. He wasn't responsible for Emily. Or her.
"It's not your fault." He opened the door to my room and walked in slowly, almost as if he was savoring these moments alone with me. "Gray.."
Gray. Gray. Gray.
"Teach me something." I said, playing with the violin in my hands.
"I'm 8 years old, not a phenomenon." Gray grabbed the violin from me and placed it back on its stand.
"Not all of us are as perfect as you are." I mocked.
"I think you're fine as you are."
—
❥
a/n:
y'all are not ready for these next few chapters 🤭
also 600 reads?!? i couldn't ask for anything else <3