Page 8

Elle sat by Conley’s beside, taking his hand in hers; it was ice cold. He seemed like he wasn’t even alive. There was no color to his skin, not even to his used-to-be rosy lips. She sighed, putting his hand to her heart, her hands overlapping his one. She looked down, her shoulders shaking. “Oh… This is all my fault.” She whispered as she slid off the bed, her knees holding her up. She rested her head on the bed, holding his hand still.

It’s not your fault.

Elle lifted her head, blinking away the tears to see Conley’s face. “W-what?” She asked.

This is not your fault, Elizabeth.

Elle blushed. Only Conley had ever went against Elle when she asked to be called a nickname. He insisted on calling her Elizabeth.

It’s romantic.

Conley finished Elle’s thought for her. “You can’t talk, can you?” She asked. Conley’s head moved to the side and back ever so slightly. “He gave you vapomine.” It wasn’t a question; it was a statement on fact. “You’re… dying.” She said softly, her voice cracking, tears coming to her eyes once more. Conley gripped her hand; Elle really couldn’t even call it a grip, he was so weak. It was more of an infant’s squeeze. “What do I do?”

I honestly don’t know. The tone of his thought was defeated, and that angered Elle.

“No. No, we are not giving up.” She said, her voice stern. Her shaky hand came up to her eyes and wiped away the tears with the back of her hand. “No. There has to be something we can do.” She said softly, looking down at the bed, trying to think.

You may have to go to Bryan, try to get him to talk.

“Conley. You cannot be serious.” She said. I am. He did this, maybe this is what he wants; for you to come and beg for his help. He said he had a solution.

“You can’t think he was serious.” Elle said.

I do. I do think he was serious.

“All he was doing was lying. He was just trying to get inside of our heads.” There was a knock at the door.

Or maybe he will come here.

prev chapter