Chapter 5

My mind was a whirlwind of terror and pain. But through it all, one thought screamed louder than anything else: Alia.

The delay. The destroyed papers. The wasted time.

Even as I lay on the floor, being brutalized, my sister was lying in a hospital bed, her time running out.

Ginger stood over me, breathing heavily. "Pathetic," she sneered. She drew back her foot and kicked me hard in the ribs, right where I' d fallen.

A sickening crack echoed in the small room, followed by a wave of agony so intense it stole my breath. I felt something give way inside.

"He's my brother," I gasped, the words torn from my throat. "My name is Haven Allen. Damon Allen. He's my brother."

The room fell silent for a heartbeat. Ginger froze, her hand raised to strike me again. The other women stared, their mouths agape.

Then Ginger let out a short, sharp bark of a laugh.

"His brother? You're getting more pathetic by the second." She kicked me again, this time in the stomach, with a contemptuous force that sent a wave of nausea through me.

"I know everything about Damon Moran," she said, her voice dripping with scorn. "I know what he eats for breakfast. I know he's allergic to shellfish. I know he hasn't spoken to his family in fifteen years. He has no sister. He has no one but me."

She was a gatekeeper who had crowned herself queen.

I coughed, a wet, ragged sound. I felt something warm and metallic fill my mouth. I spat onto the white linoleum floor. It was blood.

"It's true," I whispered, my voice hoarse. "Our parents are dead. He left. But he's still my brother. Please... Alia needs him."

The sight of my blood seemed to give the other women pause. Martha, the older one, took a hesitant step forward. "Ginger, he's right. Maybe we should just call security and have them escort her out. This has gone too far."

Ginger shot her a look that could freeze fire. "Stay out of this, Martha."

Then, I felt a different warmth. A terrifying wetness spreading beneath me, soaking the back of my dress. A sharp, deep pain pulsed from my side, and I realized the kick had done more than just break a rib. I was bleeding. A lot.

One of the other assistants saw it. She pointed, her face a mask of horror.

"Look! She's bleeding!"

The dark red stain bloomed on the light-colored floor, undeniable and horrifying.

The room erupted in panicked whispers.