Reconstructing Amelia (unedited)

Chapter 80

December 19th, 2019

I awoke to soft white light streaming in from my windows. My entire body felt weak and sore, my head aching and my stomach queasy. I vaguely remembered waking up sick sometime last night, but I didn't feel nearly as bad as I had then. The rest of yesterday's memories eventually washed in and I wished I could just block everything out.

I forced myself to sit up, taking a sip of water from the glass Alan had brought me last night to clear my headache.

The clock on the wall read ten a.m and I knew Cato and I would be leaving for the lawyer's office soon. But as much as I didn't feel like going, I didn't really have a choice.

I slid out of bed, slowly ambling to the dresser and dressing in leggings and a dark green jumper over a white button-up. I couldn't help but stare at the middle drawer, guilt knotting in my stomach at the thought of the little white envelope I'd hidden. I wanted to keep my brothers safe more than anything but I also knew I had to make sure Ben had no chance of being released. I don't think I'd be able to (1) lie my way out of testifying, or (2) lie in front of an enter courtroom. I had to pretend that everything was normal and hope for the best.

I shook my thoughts from the letter, brushing my teeth, combing my hair, and putting on a light layer of makeup to hide the fact that I looked a bit sick.

I left my room and went across the hall, knocking lightly on the triplets' door. I went in anyway when no one answered, finding both Colton and Calvin still asleep.

"Mia?" Colton murmured sleepily, his eyes opening as I sat down beside him.

"Hey," I said softly. "How are you feeling?"

He shrugged slightly, wincing. "Not great," He propped himself up higher against his pillows and shoved his sheets back. His shirt was still missing from last night, his skin pale in the soft morning light. Colton grimaced as he looked down at his stomach.

"Well, it's not infected, that's good," I noted, rummaging through the first aid kit that was still on his bedside table.

"Hurts like fucking hell though," Colton muttered bitterly, drawing a sharp breath as I began putting vaseline over the stitches. "Do you have to do that?" he whined, pulling away from me.

"Unless you want to go to the hospital and have this done all over again, yes," I answered, tapping gauze over the wound and putting the extra supplies away.

Colton just groaned and leaned back against his pillow, draping an arm over his eyes. "Fucking Carson," he muttered under his breath.

"Is that who did this to you?"

He nodded, his expression flashing with guilt. "I really am sorry about last night," he pleaded. "Please, you have to believe me,"

  "I do," I told him gently.

Colton gazed up at me, seeming to accept my answer because he didn't say anything else about it. "Will you grab me a shirt?" he asked, pointing to the drawer.

I nodded, heading over to the dresser and pulling out a T-shirt with a band logo I didn't recognise and tossing it over to him.

   "Thanks" he mumbled, carefully manoeuvring it over his head. His teeth were gritted together as he put the shirt on, the movement undoubtedly hurting him.

"Are you leaving soon?" he questioned, choosing to ignore the worried glances I'd been giving him.

  "In half an hour I think,"

"Are you going downstairs then?" Colton slowly hauled himself all the way up, swinging his legs over the bed and wincing in pain. "Can you help me up?"