I felt sick.

From the rage in her eyes, I knew that had been her plan. My mother was sick, she was not right. Oh god. How could she have done that?

James whirled around to her. His back was to me now, but I staggered to the table behind me and sat down. I couldn't move; I could only sit as he drew to his fullest height. But he didn't say anything, not a thing. The room was so tense, my heart continued to race.

"Honey—" She tried, but she stopped.

Slowly, so slowly, he turned and left the room. And that was enough.

I'd just broken what love he had for her.

"Get. Out."

I fell off the chair. Her tone was ferocious, and as I saw the enraged eyes, the fisted hands, I knew she was close again. The robe fell open, and she was braced in front of me. The nightgown was white, like the one from that night, except this one wasn't drenched in blood. A part of me fell away and slipped back to the memory. She'd been so quiet, almost dead, in the bathroom with the pool of blood beneath her. Her eyes had been murderous days later.

My mother took a step towards me. She drew in her breath, as the veins on her neck stood out. One of her hands started to shake back and forth, but it wasn't from fear. I stood now, numb suddenly, and looked at my mother.

"OUT!"

I flinched, but I couldn't move. She wanted me to leave? But—

"GET OUT! NOOOOW!"

"Analise!" James rushed back into the room. "Do not speak to her like that!"

My heart picked up again, I couldn't breathe once more, and I fell against the wall behind me. It was all closing in around me. This wasn't how I thought it was going to be. She wanted me gone, actually gone… I cared. I hadn't known that I cared.

When I heard a thump, she was on the floor. A hand was to her chest and she was out cold.

"Oh my god." James dropped to his knees beside her. He skimmed his hands over her body, checking for anything wrong with her. When there was nothing, he pressed his fingers to her neck and felt her pulse.

She was breathing. I watched as her chest moved up and down, but I saw it from the distance. I had detached from myself. I was floating away, to somewhere safer than in that room.

"…911 now!..."

"Huh?" I looked at him through a fog now.

"911, Samantha!"

I frowned. 911? She was faking, didn't he know that? But I couldn't speak. The words never came as he rushed past me for the phone. It was attached to the wall behind me, and as he grabbed and lifted it to his ear, his accidentally pushed me backwards.

I reached out for something to hold onto, but there wasn't anything. It was just wall and then I fell to the floor. I scooted up against the wall and sat there as he spoke on the phone.

Everything happened in slow motion. It was surreal. I was watching a movie played out in front of me. The ambulance hadn't taken long. Two EMTs checked her vitals and interrogated James with questions. When they couldn't find anything wrong, they loaded her onto a stretcher and left.

James went with them. He glanced back at me once and asked me a question, but I couldn't make sense of it. I saw his mouth moving, but I couldn't hear him. There was a buzzing sound in my head, it drowned out everything else. When I only looked at him, he gave me a small frown, but grabbed a set of keys from a drawer. He left after that.

I was like that when I heard pounding on the door.

I couldn't move. I knew I should get up to see who that was, but I couldn't. But then—no. I had to get up. She'd been faking it. Why was I in shock about that? So, slowly, I pushed myself up and then went to the door.

I turned the lock the whole way and the door was shoved open. My hands braced against it, and I was thrown against the wall. Before I could fall or steady myself, Mason grabbed me. He hauled me close.

I gasped, everything came flooding back.

God, the buzzing sound was still there. It felt like someone was stomping their foot on my head.

"Where'd they go?"

Logan rushed past Mason into the kitchen. He came back a second later and lifted his hands. "They're gone." He looked at me. "Did they go to the hospital already?"

I shook my head. "She was faking it." She had to have been.

Mason clutched me tighter against him before he pressed a rough kiss against my forehead. "Are you okay?"

Logan stepped closer, concerned as well.

What were they so scared about? She was faking.

"Sam." Mason cupped both sides of my face. "Your mom collapsed. Dad called us. He said you were in shock. Are you okay?"

"She didn't," my voice cracked. I shook my head. Why did everyone believe her? "She's faking." I knew it, she had to have been. The convenient timing, how dramatic it had been. All of this was nuts. It was over the top, how Analise liked to live. I shook my head clear of the shock and my voice became clearer. "I told your dad what she was going to do, that she was going to press charges against you and then pretend she hadn't been thinking straight. She saw it, she saw his face." I hadn't. His back had been turned to me, but how he'd grown quiet, how he had left the room. I'd been so sure that it was done, that they were done. How could he have stayed with her after knowing that?

"Huh?" Logan scratched his head.

Mason cursed under his breath. "Nothing."

"Wait, that's not nothing." Logan stepped closer. "What aren't you telling me?"

Mason stiffened, but when I knew he was going to feed him another lie, I spilled the beans. "My mom was going to press charges of statutory rape against Mason. It's illegal to have sex with a minor. He's 18. It would've stuck."

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