Page 108 of Broken & Bound

“Talk to me.”

Before I could answer, chaos erupted, startling not only me but Kinsley. Police and paramedics arrived. They started shouting orders and questions, trying to figure out what had happened.

Their voices were so loud. I wanted to ask them to stop screaming but couldn’t speak. It was then that I recognized where some of the blood was coming from. A body lying in a pool of it. Eyes wide and staring at the ceiling, lifeless.

Hannah?

My gaze dropped to her neck, and everything violently tilted. There was a crater where her throat should have been. A jagged, glistening void fringed with shredded tissue.

Sure, Ivan had taught us where to cut, but nothing could have prepared me to see what that cut would look like up close. A heavy weight slammed into my stomach, dropping it through the floor.

Air refused to fill my lungs. It was like a fist was wrapped around my windpipe. My stomach convulsed and bitter acid rose. I slapped a hand over my mouth.

A paramedic approached.

Kinsley hooked one arm beneath Isabella’s shoulders, dragging her flush against her body while her fingers clawed into the fabric of Isabella’s hoodie. Her shoulders hunched high and tight around her own ears.

“No.”

She bared her teeth at the room, her breath coming in jagged, rhythmic hisses. Every muscle in her back went taut as a coiled spring, ready to snap at anything and anyone.

“Kinsley—” I tried.

“No!”

She scrambled a few feet, trying to get away. She dragged Isabella with her. My heart broke. She looked exactly as she had after the rescue. Exactly.

An officer blocked my vision, and Andy’s voice finally reached me. He was calling my name frantically and with a level of panic I’d never heard from him.

“Andy,” I croaked.

“What happened? Talk to me, angel. I’ve got your location. I’m on my way now.”

Once more, the paramedics tried to get closer to Isabella and Kinsley.

“You can’t have her. She’s not yours. She’s my sister. Mine.”

It was like déjà vu all over again as Kinsley tried to kick and strike out at them as she did Doc all those years ago.

“Mouse,” I sobbed. “Please, they are here to help.”

But it was too late. The officers exchanged glances, then moved in. Everything happened so fast. The sound of the struggle was deafening. Between the static of the police radios and the heavy thuds of boots hitting the floor, the room felt suffocating.

Kinsley shrieked. A raw, breathless wail that made my ears ache.

I choked, backing against the wall as the paramedics finally pried Isabella away and moved to put her on a stretcher. The moment they freed her, Kinsley went completely wild.

An officer lunged forward, wrapping his massive arms around her upper body to hold her back. But it didn’t register with her at all. She fought him, the air, and anything within reach.

A box scattered as they tussled. She thrashed so hard her flats had come loose. Bloody footprints marred the concrete.

“No! Let me go. I have to stay with her! Autumn, I’m here,” she screamed.

“Kinsley, stop! Please,” I cried out.

“I had to, Summer,” she whispered as tears streamed down her face.

The officers froze for a fraction of a second, exchanging a sharp, damning look over her head. They couldn’t see the trauma response. To them, it was an admission of guilt.