My nightmares were a mixture of tension, terror, and panic. It was a few weeks before the hearing, and I had decided to return to school after the wreck and my recovery. After Will and I left the house, we didn't speak for a few tense moments. When he finally broke the silence, fatigue had replaced any lingering anger in his voice.

"I just want you to be safe. That's all I've ever wanted for you, Lia."

"I know. I feel the same about you. But I can't—"

I stopped as Will tensed, his hands tightening on the steering wheel as he pulled over to the other side of the road. No sooner had he cut the engine than I heard a car door open and slam shut. Footsteps echoed in the quiet, but neither Will nor I moved. I could see his house in the distance if I looked back the way we came. I swallowed as a shadow fell over me, but I kept my eyes straight ahead.

"Malia." A deep, rough voice filled my ears, stopped my heart, and stole my breath. "Get out. Now."

I whimpered in my sleep, but I was trapped in the nightmare, so I had no choice but to finish it.

Will inhaled before speaking, his voice steady. "Look, Declan, I'm sure we can—"

No sooner had the last word left his mouth than a fist punched through the passenger window, showering me with glass. I screamed as Declan's hand reached in, unlocked the door, and threw it open. Will shouted my name when Declan roughly grabbed my arm—the arm that had been hurt in the wreck months ago—and dragged me out of the vehicle. I tasted blood in my mouth as a bloodcurdling cry escaped my lips; I twisted in his grip, desperately trying to free myself, but he shook me so violently it made my head spin.

"Not so fast, Lia." The sound of Will's nickname for me on Declan's lips—something so personal being used so derisively—made my vision go red. "You're not going to get away from me this time."

The next few moments unfolded rapidly, yet they also seemed to move in slow motion. I saw a flash of movement out of the corner of my eye a heartbeat before Will rammed into Declan, tackling him to the ground. When Declan lost his grip on me, I lunged for the driver's side of the car, slid inside, locked the doors, and grabbed my phone. I tried to block out the sounds of the men fighting in the distance as I dialed 9-1-1. I let out a muffled sob when a voice on the other end of the line asked, "9-1-1, what is your emergency?"

My voice wavered as I hurriedly told the dispatcher what was happening: the type of car Will and I were in, where we were, and who was with us. The woman, named Vanessa, listened carefully and told me to stay on the line. By some miracle, Will's phone had fallen out of his pocket and was resting on the driver's seat.

I grabbed it with trembling hands and texted Julie and Skye. SOS. When Will shouted my name, I couldn't stop the whimper that escaped my lips. "Malia! Lia, RUN!"

I woke up with a desperate gasp, disoriented. Terror, adrenaline, and panic flooded my body as I tried to figure out where I was and what had happened. Will was asleep in a chair beside the bed, but his eyes snapped open at the noise. Tears filled my eyes and spilled down my cheeks as my vision blurred. The pounding of my heart deafened me, drowning out all other sounds.

I felt more than saw Will reach for my hand, but I collapsed against him, unable to hold back sobs. My words came out in broken, fragmented whimpers and gasps. "He wanted—he wanted to—he wanted to take me away from you. I was trying to—I was trying to get—I was trying to get away from him, but he wouldn't let me go." Sobs made my words unintelligible, but I kept mumbling as I clung to his shirt.

When Will finally spoke, his voice was soothing and quiet—so much so, I barely heard it over my pounding heartbeat. "Focus on the sound of my voice. You are not there anymore. We are not there anymore. You are here with me, and you are safe. Declan can't hurt you anymore. He will never hurt you again, Lia."

The repetitive, calming motion of Will rubbing his thumb along the back of my hand, combined with the hand he gently placed on the back of my head, made all my emotions fade away. "I'm so tired," I murmured, echoing what I had said months ago after confronting Declan in Montgues.

Will sighed. "I know, Lia. I know." It was all he could say. There was nothing he—or anyone—could do to fix it.

Taking slow, steady breaths, I wiped tears from my cheeks. When I looked at Will again, I saw the stress on his face and the exhaustion in his eyes. "Any news?" I quickly changed the subject, wanting to talk about anything else.

Will glanced at the door, then back at me. He hesitated, opening and closing his mouth several times. "Will?" I asked, trying to keep my voice calm. "Has there been any news about Dimitri or Noemi?"

Seeing the latter with my own eyes had eased a lot of the stress, but aside from vague updates from Noemi and Julie, I still didn't know much about Dimitri's condition.

A sudden memory pierced my mind, leaving me stunned and confused. It was when I'd first met Dimitri in Montgues—right after Declan confronted me. I had managed to block most of it out, but one sentence Dimitri had said came back unbidden.

"She's your daughter?"

The shock and disbelief in his voice—and my own feelings—had overwhelmed me so completely that I hadn't questioned how they knew each other. Now, though, I couldn't stop thinking about it.

It was only when Will gently put his hand on my arm that I realized he had finally answered my question. "Dimitri is fine," Will repeated softly, as if he knew I wanted to hear it first. "He's awake and talking. Noemi and I both agreed that if you felt up to it, you could see him. She made me promise to make sure you felt ready. Neither of them wanted to add stress for you."

I started nodding before the last words finished echoing. I knew neither Noemi nor Dimitri would hide anything from me, but I also couldn't figure out why Dimitri wouldn't tell me about the conversation. "I need to see him," I said, my voice filled with determination to hide my nerves and confusion. "Please," I added softly, trying to sound confident even though I wasn't.

Will looked at my face for several seconds before nodding. He grabbed my crutch, brought it next to the bed, and gripped my hand to help me stand. I hopped a few times to regain my balance, leaning heavily on the crutch.

I couldn't believe I hadn't asked Dimitri about it before now. But I knew it hadn't been easy for Dimitri and Declan to be in the same room during the hearing, regardless of how it had turned out. As far as I knew, aside from that brief encounter, they hadn't seen each other since that day in Montgues.

"Are you okay?" Will asked, tilting his head to check my balance. Aside from the usual spasms and exhaustion from lying in bed so long, I felt fine. Adrenaline rushed through me, pushing away any lingering fatigue and filling me with cold determination.

I hated to bring up such a difficult topic while Dimitri was still recovering, but I'd been kept in the dark long enough. I needed answers. Slowly—agonizingly so—Will and I made our way out of my room and into the hallway. Aside from a few nurses and doctors on rounds, we didn't see anyone who could stop us (read: Julie). "Do you know where his room is?" Will asked quietly, his breath brushing against my ear.

I froze mid-step, wobbling slightly as I tried to steady myself. "No." I hadn't even thought to ask either Julie or Noemi when I'd last seen them. An audible groan escaped my lips as I stopped and leaned against the wall.

By chance, I overheard a snippet of conversation between two nurses passing by—two room numbers. "Dimitri and Noemi Koslov, Rooms 213 and 214."

I waited until the nurses were out of earshot before turning to Will. He nodded resolutely and motioned for me to lead, keeping a steady hand on my back in case I faltered. When we reached the first room (Room 213), I hesitated in front of the door.

"We don't have to do this if you don't want to," Will said quietly. "We can wait until you're stronger or until they release you. You don't have to have this conversation with him in the hospital."

I knew he was right, but I also knew if I didn't start the conversation, I never would. And if I waited until all three of us were released from the hospital, I'd back out or talk myself out of it entirely. "I'm not leaving," I said, hoping I projected a confidence I most definitely didn't feel. "I'm not a coward."

I felt Will stiffen behind me before the words had even left my mouth. I whipped my head around to meet his gaze, apology shining in my eyes. The warmth in his own vanished, replaced by a shuttered, glassy stare that made his ocean-blue eyes turn stormy. "I didn't mean..." I trailed off, shame heating my face. "I didn't mean it like that."

He didn't say anything. But I didn't miss the way he avoided my gaze as he jerked his chin toward the door. I wanted to say something—anything to ease the tension between us—but nothing came out. I didn't bother trying to hide the blush that rose in my cheeks, spreading across my face until I was sure I matched the color of Will's car. Leaning on my crutch, I knocked on Dimitri's door, taking slow breaths as I blinked past the tears forming in my eyes.

My heart simultaneously leaped and sank when Dimitri's rough, weak voice floated toward us from inside. "Come in."

Will reached around me to open the door, deliberately avoiding touching me, and I tried to shake off the shame and guilt that rose inside me. I knew Dimitri would immediately pick up on the tension between Will and me, not to mention the way we intentionally avoided looking at each other. Still, I was too wound up to try to explain.

The agitation between Will and me was almost tangible—so much so that I almost forgot the reason we'd come. Dimitri's eyes widened when he saw me. "Malia." I hobbled to a chair beside his bed, letting out a breath as I sat down.

I hadn't thought about how I'd even bring up such a difficult topic, much less begin questioning Dimitri about it. "How—" My voice broke, and I cleared my throat before starting over. "How do you know my—Declan?" I kept my eyes on his, hoping he either didn't notice or wouldn't comment on my slip.

Shock flashed across Dimitri's face, followed almost immediately by guilt. I could tell by the way he spoke slowly and carefully that he was concentrating on his English. "We met a few months before I met you that first day in Montgues. He would occasionally come into Noemi's bookshop, and we'd make small talk. One day, I asked him where he was from, and he mentioned a town I'd never heard of and that he had a wife and daughter back home.

"As I said at the hearing/trial, he'd led me to believe that you were unreliable, unable to hold down a steady job or take care of yourself. He never once mentioned your passion for photography or that you work before and after school at a local modeling studio."

Dimitri's throat bobbed as he swallowed, his eyes locked on mine. "After meeting you, it quickly became clear to me that everything he'd said about you had been a lie. You are not unreliable. You are not weak. You ran headfirst into our bookshop to save my sister and me, all the while having to deal with your own injuries. I am very sorry that I lied to you, Malia. I truly did not mean to cause you any anguish, but I did by keeping this from you."

Though I knew he hadn't intended them to, his words snagged on a wound I had thought long since closed. Flashes of the argument Will and I'd had weeks ago—way before the hearing—sliced through my head. We'd never argued before then, but the fact that Declan had been the reason for the dispute had made it that much worse.

"What if he'd tried to take me back with him right then and there? What would you have done?"

"'I WOULDN'T LEAVE LIKE A COWARD! I would have fought him with my bare hands to keep him from taking you away from me! From us! Where was he when you were in the hospital, recovering from the wreck that he caused? Where was he when you learned you could have been paralyzed from that wreck? Where was he when you were waking up from nightmares, crying out for me?'"

My jaw ached from being clenched, and I felt heat creep up my neck before flushing my face. I didn't know what to do. I was ashamed, furious, betrayed, disgusted, and a whole other host of emotions I couldn't even begin to name. My tangled emotions weren't directed at Dimitri, but at myself for allowing Declan to twist this into something so horrible.

I stared at Dimitri for several seconds before remembering to breathe. The rush of oxygen made me momentarily light-headed, and I closed my eyes before I started to sway. "And—don't tell me, let me guess—that was your first impression of me that day we met in Montgues, right? Poor, defenseless Malia, always needing someone to save her. Unable to think or fend for herself."

Hurt flashed across Dimitri's face as my words echoed in the air, followed immediately by shock. He looked as though someone had slapped him. My throat tightened with shame, but I couldn't speak. I knew if I tried, I'd either start screaming or sobbing.

My hands clenched when I stood in a rush, nearly knocking over the chair as I fumbled for my crutch. I was shaking so violently that it took me several tries to grip the handle and pull the door open, all the while ignoring Dimitri calling my name.

"Malia?" Before I even stepped out of the room, I slammed into a steady body, barely registering the impact. Warm hands gently grasped my arms, steadying me before I lost my balance. "Honey, what happened?" The words floated in and out of my ears, but I couldn't focus enough to try to identify the voice.

A cold numbness had settled over me, bringing with it sharp clarity. I was finally able to identify the voice. Julie. Julie was talking to me, and we were standing on the threshold of Dimitri's room.

Her eyes never left my face as she smoothed back my hair. I stared at her, watching her mouth move, but not hearing the words. It was only when she put her arm around my shoulder and guided me to a chair that I swiped at my cheeks, surprised at the dampness I felt. She gently lowered me into the chair while keeping a soft grip on my hand.

"What's wrong, sweetheart? Did something happen with you and Dimitri?"

I stared at nothing, my stomach churning like a washing machine. The memory of me saying those horrible things to Dimitri—things I hadn't even realized I'd believed about myself—made my stomach lurch sickeningly. I closed my eyes against the waves of nausea that crashed over me.

I didn't move. I focused on my breathing—slow, deep, in, out—and not on the queasiness that was gradually rising inside me. Cold sweat broke out on my forehead, and I doubled over a heartbeat before I lost my grip on my stomach. I shuddered violently as I heaved up the contents of my stomach (mostly bile and spit because it had been a while since I'd eaten anything).

My stomach flipped over repeatedly until I felt like I was back in Will's Red Bullet. The burn was acidic, and I retched as my mouth filled with the bitter taste of copper. When I finally stopped heaving, I slumped back into the chair, my eyelids fluttering shut.

I felt movement around me but didn't dare open my eyes. Voices swirled in and out of my ears, close and distant.

"Oh, sweetheart..."

"I'm here, Lia. I'm here, my love. You're okay. Everything's going to be okay."

"You'll be okay, Malia. We've got you."

I let the darkness of oblivion suck me under, hoping that when I woke up again, everything would magically work itself out. I knew better by now than to pray for that.