Before I can say anything else, Clarisse is standing up and calling everyone's attention. "Will, careful with your comments. Kids, finish your meal and then you can catch up with Will. Blanca, you and Will can go talk to my office. You have to be careful of what you do and say in front of the kids."

I press my lips together to keep me from saying anything. The whole amnesia issue is quite hard to remember, pun not intended. I don't keep in mind that I have to act like I don't remember my life or who I am. I shouldn't even remember Will, but I clearly acted like I do.

There's one thing I know for sure: I can't be an actor.

I stand up, grab my crutch and give Nora a look for her to follow me. I'm heading to Clarisse's office when the new guest speaks up.

"Why should I? I have nothing to talk to her." I stop in my tracks to stare at him in bewilderment. "If she needs to find out anything, she can read the news."

The guy shrugs and then heads to sit at the table next to Graham. I keep staring at him, not believing he is acting like this. He can't just refer to me like that and then ignore me like this.

"William!" Clarisse exclaims, her expression as scandalised as mine, but that doesn't make him react.

"I'm not a kid anymore, I can make my own decisions. People like her don't want to talk to people like me unless they need to, right? Why do I have to help her when she doesn't care about anything else but her own world?"

There's such venom in his words that I clumsily stumble back, as if he's slapped me across the face.

I remember his words when I arrived at the office, the rage in them as he shouted. It doesn't surprise me that he hates me, or maybe not me but people like me, but I'm surprised he is acting like this in front of the kids. After all, they really regard him as a hero and right now he is not giving the best example.

"Excuse me, people like her, as you so well referred, is standing right here, and just for respect to the kids having dinner, I think it's appropriate to step outside if you want to keep insulting me," I throw back at him, stepping forward defiantly, trying to square my shoulders and look more imposing like that.

He finally decides to look at me and the disdain in his eyes is evident, but I don't let him intimidate me.

"I don't have anything to tell you, or insults to spare. I would prefer eating right now."

"We made that food," I snap when he turns to ignore me again. "Will you be able to eat that or are you scared you'll get indigestion? Someone like me touched it."

I feel like I'm back in elementary school by doing and saying these things, but he is not much better as he makes a face of utter disgust. If I'm being childish, it's because he started it.

"Will, if you came to look for a fight, this is not the place. We are having dinner and I don't want you acting like this in front of the kids!" Clarisse steps forward before Will can make a remark. "If you are an adult now, act like one, or do you want me to pull your ear?"

Some of the kids laugh at that and I notice how Will covers his left ear almost instinctively, watching Clarisse with alarm in his eyes. I feel tempted to laugh as well, but I control myself better.

He huffs, he really does, and then adds, "Fine. No need to threaten me."

He stands up again and walks pass us, towards Clarisse's office. Nora and I finally follow him, exchanging looks that say more than words. We both agree this won't be pleasant and he won't easily help us to understand what's going on.

"I'll go call Mum," Nora tells me. "I'm sure she'll be more helpful than he, and I'll also ask her what to do about him. He recognises you, hence the coverup is basically ruined. We either get him to help or we leave."

"Ugh," I groan, rubbing my hands against my face. "As if things weren't complicated enough, now we have to deal with him."

Nora grabs my good hand to give me an encouraging squeeze before she heads somewhere different to have a peaceful call, while I follow Will inside Clarisse's office. He is already sitting on her desk when I close the door behind me, nonchalant attitude as he inspects his nails.

"So, what does the dead girl want from me?" he asks, not bothering to look at me.

"Missing, not dead," I correct him. "Do you need to refer to me like that? And if you'd bother to look at me you could see I'm here, breathing, technically alive."

"That's not what the papers say." He looks up, shrugging with one shoulder and keeping the grimace. "They keep saying my people killed you, ignoring what we say, making us go through a living hell. Thank you for that, Dead Girl."

My fists clench at my sides as I try to control my temper. I get he is upset because the blame is being thrown at them, and he might be innocent but we don't really know the responsible of the attack. It could've been a group of extremist activists, just as much as it could've been my stepmother. There are no proofs, just the fact someone tried to kill me. If he is mad about it, then what about me?

"Well, I don't see anyone trying to kill you, sending your car down the hill, crushing bones and making your organs bleed. I don't see you barely escaping before said car blew up, so I'm sorry if I can't be that sympathetic. Furthermore, I'd appreciate if you stop calling me dead girl because I almost died!" I've raised my voice with every word, practically yelling at him by the end and he seems shocked, even a bit regretful.

His eyes dart to his left and I use that chance to take a breath and calm myself down. I won't accomplish anything from getting in an argument with him or shouting like a crazy person.

"We didn't do that to you."

"I'm not saying you or your friends did it, but someone tried to kill me and I really don't need your attitude," I continue, trying a calmer tone. "Someone wants me dead and I'm just trying to stay safe. I'd appreciate if you could help with that instead of telling the press or anyone I'm here or that I actually remember."

"But why should I do that? Everyone is looking for you and if you don't show up, it's worse for us. Do you know I had to spend a whole night at the police station because I was being interrogated about you?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. That surely is worse than spending two days unconscious in the hospital or having your ribs, leg and arm broken... or even worse than going under surgery because of the internal bleeding!" My sarcasm doesn't make him feel bad about his words or attitude, it only worsens things.

"And I have to apologise for that? Even if I have nothing to do with it? I have to pay the consequences?" Will snaps, jumping from the desk and charging at me. I'd move back, but it's actually quite hard and a slow process. "How I see it, the best is if I just call the policeman that interrogated me and tell him you're here. Problem solved! and you're back where you belong."

"And then whoever did this to me strikes again and success! I'm dead. You'll surely be happy about that, won't you?" Clumsily, I take also a step towards him, keeping my head high and my jaw set.

He doesn't stop or retreat, he keeps charging and it's a bit intimidating when we are face-to-face, considering he's probably a bit more than 180 cm and looks at me with so much rage in his eyes.

"Are you telling me it'd be my fault then?" he remarks, looking down at me, his brow furrowed. "You're insinuating I'll be happy if you die?"

"Well, won't you? You hate my guts and think this world would be better without me."

"I'm not a savage!" Will shouts, leaning forward, invading my personal space and making me really uncomfortable. "I don't want to kill you or any other person on this planet. Contrary to you, I don't rejoice in other's misery as long as it benefits me. I don't want you dead so I can be at ease."

"Then why do you want to tell them I'm here?" I demand to know, doing my best not to step back and let him win this.

"Because I don't want you here! Yes, I hate you and your kind. You have no conscience or care for the rest and I don't want you near any of the kids here. You're toxic."

This guy... this guy who hates me so much, who thinks to know me so well... I feel his hatred as I can hear my own breathing and my heartbeat in my ears. The animosity is so evident it leaves a bitter taste in my tongue and a burning feeling in my eyes.

"You don't know me," I breathe out, feeling a lump in my throat.

"I don't have to, I know your type. Business people who don't care if they take down every tree and animal in this world if that means they can keep expanding. Who don't care the air quality worsens because of them, making kids to get so sick during winter, giving us all trouble breathing. Who step on others and have no respect for human rights. I don't need to know you personally to know you see the world in a matter of loss and profit."

I want to argue, to tell him he's wrong, I'm not like that, that we're not like that. My father wasn't like that and I'm not like that... but we do see the world in a matter of loss and profit. If we don't, then we won't make it in this competitive world. It's how you strike and grow.

"You speak as if I were a monster..."

"Aren't you?" he shoots back, the bite in his words feels like a slap across the face. "Or close enough for someone to want to kill you. Probably another monster like you, power-driven who just wants more for themselves, even if means taking someone down along the way. You all don't have limits."

I finally step back because his last blow is like a punch in my stomach and I can't breathe anymore, my eyes burn so much and I know it's because tears are about to come out, but I fight them, because I can't cry in front of him. I can't give him that satisfaction. But it's hard, oh so hard.

"You're saying I deserved what happened to me?"

That seems to get to him and make him realise what he's said and done to me. The blinding rage disappears for a few seconds, his expression clearing as he stares at me, aware of what's he's done to me, how he's attacked me.

"And then you say I'm the monster?" I whisper, blinking away the tears and cradling my broken arm closer to my chest, shielding me from him.

"I didn't mean that," he blurts out, taking a step towards me with his hand held up, almost like a stranger approaching a wounded stray dog. And I react like one, flinching and trying to step back, but having a crutch and dealing with the emotional pain is too much for me.

I'm not sure how I do it, how I lose my crutch and my balance at the same time, but Will jumps forward and catches me before I fall, his arm around my waist pulling me against him too strongly, knocking the air out of my lungs and crushing my ribs with my casted arm. I gasp in pain and then scream, pushing him with my good arm and limping backwards.

"Don't touch me!" I snap, screaming almost hysterically, not able to fight my tears anymore.

"I'm sorry, I really didn't mean that," he tries to say but I just turn around to hide my face from him.

Right then the door opens and Nora comes in running, her eyes wide in panic and worry, looking for me. The moment our eyes meet, I let all my barriers come down and I limp towards her, who rushes to grab me in her arms.

"I didn't mean..." Will tries again but Nora shakes her head, I can feel that.

"Later," Nora tells him and then she turns her head to whisper in my ear. "Come, let's go to the room."

I nod and let her help me out of the room, leaving behind my crutch and Will with his cruelty and ill opinion of me. I don't need that now, I have enough. And if I have to leave and hide somewhere else, then I will. I don't want to see him ever again.

❅ ❅ ❅

Hi there! Uh, it really looks like our leads hate each other. But isn't that more fun? When the relationship evolves from that? Love-hate relationships are always fun to write. What do you all think?

Dedication to italy12

Bel, xx

~updates every Friday~