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CHAPTER 38

Anton Marigold

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Toaster. He knew it was called a toaster but was that not such a boring name? It would be like calling his sister human. True, but also not. She was so much more. More interesting. More important. His sister was his hero.

Anton Marigold sat in the kitchen, picking at his toast. He just got home, and his hands still stung from sterilizer. He sank into the counter and thought he could sleep right there. With his wife in the city and his daughter at university, he was all alone.

It had been a while since he felt like this. A year and a half now. The corner of his lip pulled up. Amber was exactly like Mel. They both could run straight into hell with smiles on their faces.

His phone rang, and he sat up. A call at this time of night?

"Hello, Daughter figure?"

"Father, I'm almost home. Please get your medical equipment and everything you could need. I'm picking you up."

"Wait, what's wrong?"

The phone hung up.

The urgency called for no hesitation. He was already in the study and gathered anything that could save a life. Was there an accident? Why was his daughter so distraught? The last time she sounded like this was after that car accident more than a year ago. When he had two bags filled with everything he could think of, a honk blared from outside. He ran out, too rushed to lock the door. Before he even properly got in, Jessy sped them away. In the dead of night, her engine cut through the street like a cry.

"Is someone hurt?"

"I don't..." Her nails, bloody, dug into the steering wheel. She wore sweats, and her hair was knotted. "I don't know if anyone is hurt, but I'm getting a bad feeling. Amber... sent a message that worried me. I called a friend to ask what's going on. They're at a house North of here, and it's extremely dangerous."

Anton put a hand on his daughter's shoulder while her voice broke and her eyes teared.

"I tried, Father figure. I really did try to stop her. Probably not as much as I should've. I was selfish for a moment, and that got her to fall into this. I don't want to see her hurt. Please don't be hurt. I'll never forgive myself if anything happens to her."

Streetlights zipped past, and for a moment, it was his younger self behind the wheel. He knew his daughter's pain all too well. How many times did he warn Mel not to hang out with that Lloyd boy? How many days did he lay in his bed, phone in hand, waiting for a call to tell him something went wrong? Even now, he still could not figure out her true reason for jumping into that life. Was it love? The thrill? Or did she do it because it offered a way out of their poverty? Their parents were in no state to pay for medical school. All they were good for were gambling and drinking. It was his sister who raised him.

"Hey, Ant, you better write me a poem."

"I don't write poetry anymore."

"Ahw, not even for my wedding? I'm your big sis. You must!"

Anton's bottom lip hung, and he sent a disapproving gaze.

"Do you really like this guy?"

"I do."

He stirred his coffee while Mel watched. She could smile at a funeral and still make it look genuine.

"Will your last name change to Lloyd now?"

"Nah, he wants to take our name."

"Oh. Even with the debt attached to it?"

She squeezed his hand, that smile shrinking only for a moment.

"We don't have to worry about any of that anymore."

By the time he brought himself back to the present, they were driving past a forest. Up ahead, a car was parked in the shadows, and Jessy came to a halt right next to them. She leaned out the window.

"Jack! Are they still in there?"

The two boys in the car got out and walked over to them. They were alarmingly pale and out of breath.

"Jessy, how did you know we were here?" the white-haired boy asked. He spared a quick glance at Anton, then returned to her.

"Amber sent a weird message. When I asked Enrique what was happening, he said he has a mission at Isabella, and he might not see me again. I raced here immediately. My father's here too. Is everyone okay? Nobody's hurt, right?"

"It's a disaster," the dark-haired boy said. "Matt and Calvin... They... Amber is fighting Xavier right now. She was poisoned."

"Where is she?" Anton spoke up.

His tone offered no time to be wasted. They got in with the boys and drove up the road. A pair of guards stopped them by the gate and told them they could not pass.

"He's a doctor! Someone's been poisoned!" Jessy said.

"He's a witness. Xavier doesn't want any civilians here. And who are you two?" He gestured to the boys. "West and East?"

"We don't have time for this," Anton said from the back.

He shared a look with the boy behind the driver's seat. Jessy tensed next to him. The guard demanded their identities again, but the car shot out before the question was even completed. They barrelled, rammed right through, and charged up the driveway. Shouts followed and faded behind them. In front of the mansion, gravel flew at their sudden brake.

They jumped out and ran inside. Bodies were piled on the floor. The bitter scent of gunpowder was overpowering. At the stairs, the boys and Jessy stumbled towards two of the victims. Anton stepped over the corpses without even flinching, blood making the soles of his shoes stick. There was a commotion from deeper in the house, and he ran towards it. After a moment, Jessy was behind him again.

"Please be safe," she cried over and over.

Bursting through the double doors where everyone was gathered, he pushed past the crowd with his bags. The scene was exactly what he imagined a worst-case scenario to be. In the middle of the room, his sister, no, Amber, lay in a pool of her own blood. The boys kneeling by her were pleading with the girl and shouting orders at those around them.

Jessy's scream was bloodcurdling.

She fell to the floor next to Amber and cried her heart out, baring fangs at the boys and demanding answers.

Anton closed his eyes and inhaled. Exhaled. He steadied his breathing, his heartbeat. Precisely like that day he went to identify his sister. It took all he had to keep it together. Steeled, the doctor hurried over and began examining his niece.

"What happened?"

"She was poisoned and shot," a silver-eyed boy said.

"Can you save her?" his larger friend begged.

There was too much blood. He took out cotton from his bag and wiped the wound. The burns around the skin suggested close range. His heart dipped at what it meant. He pulled her up to check the back of her shoulder, and his fears were confirmed. The exit wound was much bigger and jagged. Most of the blood came from there. She would lose even more in the time it took to clean and stitch.

"She needs a transfusion."

"She can't have that," the silver-eyed boy said.

"She must."

"Sir, is there another way?" the larger boy asked. "I don't mean to involve you in our circumstances, but she can't take or give blood without consequences."

"Then would you rather she die?"

His voice rose enough for everyone around to stare. And in a moment, he was told, ordered, to save her life no matter the cost. She was picked up and carried to another room in the house. Anton and a throng of others followed behind. In the medic room, she was put on the table, and the doctor immediately got to work. Anything he might have lacked, the room had for him. He yelled at anyone unnecessary to leave while Jessy passed him his tools.

"Let's start."

Throughout the procedure, the girl's eyes fluttered in and out of consciousness. He brushed her hair back in an effort to calm her.

"Let me go," she mumbled, eyes rolling back.

"Hey, hey, you'll make it, Kiddo," he reassured, kissing her forehead. "I promised I'd save your life free of charge."

Sterilized instruments got to work, cutting into flesh. His niece twisted and flailed. Only half-awake, she resisted while Jessy held her down.

"I never got to write your mother that poem," he said as sliced into her wound, his voice calm. "It's been a while, but I'll think of one just for you." His throat tightened, and he gulped it away.

"A toaster is a bread tanner because that sounds more interesting. A sock is a cat because Tessa wouldn't buy me one. A house is a home because I had Mel to chase away the darkness."

As he spoke, trying not to let his voice crack, the girl resisted less and less, her breathing shallow.

"My sister is a hero because she kept me alive. A doctor is a fool because he can't stitch back a soul. A grave is a dirt bed because it means you're just sleeping and not gone forever... You're my sister's spirit because I refuse to accept my hero's gone..."

Clear, salty lines left a wet trail down his cheeks.

Amber went still.

"And death... is just a really long nap because I need you to wake up," he added in a quaking voice.

Anton Marigold would not fail. He was too late for his sister, but he could do this for Amber. She will live. She had to live.

Nothing else mattered. Not the warning that there could not be any witnesses. Not the house he left unlocked. And not the men already sent over for when he would return.

"Keep fighting, Amber," he begged.

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