Page 63 of A Castle in the Sky: Fern & Connor
He stepped back from the door. His voice was still low, still even but lethal. "Get lost. Or I'll call the police."
Kayla looked between him and Fern, disbelief curdling into something like grief, but she must have seen the finality in his face because she took a step back. "You're choosing her over me?"
"No," he said. "I'm choosing the only people who matter to me. I will follow them to the ends of the earth." He stepped back and shut the door with a gentleclick.
Since the day Coral got hurt, Fern couldn't look at him without betrayal and pain hitting her square in the chest. But now, there was tentative hope in her eyes. And he didn't look away.
Chapter 29
Coral swung their joined hands as they walked in from the hospital car park, her steps a half-skip, half-trudge while Fern followed behind them. Coral was enjoying all the attention from her Da, and that just made Connor feel worse for all the times he should have been there for her. It took a dangerous wake-up call for him to see the light. He had taken over all the dressings, eating breakfast and dinner with her, watching her favourite shows, and cuddling in bed with a book. It was like he was collecting memories like a miner with gold. All the while he watched Fern out of the corner of his eye.
It had been two and a half weeks since Coral was discharged, and it was time for the moment of truth.
"Smell... " Coral announced as the automatic doors sighed open. "Soup. Bad soup."
Connor huffed something that might have been a laugh. "That's the hospital for you, poppet."
He adjusted his grip on the hospital bag in his other hand. Coral's bandaged hand was tucked carefully to her chest, her whole body curled protectively around it, though it didn't hurt half as much. Fern walked on her other side, the three of them a tight little knot pushing against the flow of other people drifting by. Harlan was on his way to Manchester with the U-Haul, and both Connor's mum and Matilda had been blocked from their lives.
They didn't have to wait long before Jim greeted them with tired cheerfulness and re-dressed Coral's wound with brisk, practisedcompetence. The new dressing was still large—padded and wrapped—to stop her from scratching. Coral inspected it solemnly, then brightened when Jim offered her a unicorn sticker.
"Pink," she said with importance. "Pink 'corn."
"Keep it dry and don't poke at it," Jim told her. "You have done so well. Another three days and we can do without the bandage, I think."
Coral nodded seriously. "No poke."
Fern felt her shoulders loosen by a millimetre. The wound had looked angry while it was healing, but it was looking so much better now—just a large peeling crust in the middle and pink skin around the sides. Jim said his goodbyes when he heard they were moving out of the area with a promise that there will be nothing left but a slight scar, given time.
Then they went down to outpatients to meet DC Anand as agreed. Coral's legs swung happily from the chair, her good hand scooping up the last spoonful of hospital ice cream, as if the events of the last two weeks was nothing but a nightmare.
They walked to the small park next to the hospital, and Coral was immediately distracted by a fat caterpillar eating its way through a leaf.
Fern sat stiffly on the wooden bench with Connor beside her, hands clasped between his knees.DC Anand had a folder tucked under one arm and a coffee in her free hand. There were shadows under her eyes, but her posture was crisp and decisive as always.
"Morning," she said, pulling out the spare chair and sitting opposite. She offered Coral a small smile. "Hi again, Coral. How's the hand doing?"
Coral raised the bandage. "Big."
"That means you won't scratch it," Anand said. "It's looking good, though."
Coral wriggled, satisfied, and ran back to her caterpillar with black spots all over its back.
"No touching, Coral. I am watching you," shouted Connor.
Anand let her smile fade as she turned to the adults. The folder sat between them on the picnic table. "Right," she said. "Thank you for coming. I wanted to update you on a few developments."
Fern felt Connor tense beside her like a coiled spring.
Anand's voice was calm, measured. "Firstly, Matilda has withdrawn her allegations."
Connor exhaled as his shoulders sagged, relief bowing his frame. His large hands covered his face as he took deep, measured breaths to calm his racing heart.
"Thank god... oh, thank god," he muttered, voice shaking.
Relief swept through Fern, too—but relief wasn't trust.
"We'll need to verify her withdrawal formally," Anand said, "but she's submitted a written retraction through her solicitor. So as far as Connor is concerned, there are no active charges. And truthfully, with the inconsistencies in her account and the timing, it was always going to be difficult for CPS to pursue this."
