Shattered Hand, Broken Heart, Burning Soul

d a rib. I felt it gi

ar of streetlights and pain. They dragged me from the sidewalk int

cing the air from my lungs in a silent scream. Then they went for my right hand. Th

ching sound that echoed in the sudden, ringing silence of m

in my side. A cold, precise c

st before I blacked out, I saw car headlights sweep across the

mi

eanor. My sister, Oliv

in the gloom. But there was no panic in their eye

names, but my mouth was full of bl

rough the haze. It was

it d

hand is shattered. He won't be painting for a

cooler one of the thugs was hold

tilted and

The second was the dull, throbbing ache that radiated from my hand and my side. I

f white plaster and bandage

The door was ajar, and I could hear

and serious. "The doctor said the damage to his hand i

ited for the grief, the

r voice laced with a strange sort of relief. "

p required a portfolio of new work and a

e Caleb, my adoptive brother, had also ap

I was supposed to spend my life with. Her

uldn't handle the rejection. He was talking about... hurtin

b. The brother who had spent years perfecting the a

ce firming up. "He deserves this chance. Ethan

my future destroyed? My bod

But my priority has to be Caleb. His mental state is so precarious. We have

so clean. It washed ove

ningly sweet concern. "How's Caleb doing? Is he stil

about my pain, my fear. Her only conce

ospital room burning behind my lids. It wa

ived with the Wilsons, it h

prize money was used to buy Caleb a new g

gram, I had to give it up because Caleb "

fragile ego. Every success was something to be d

had believed in Eleanor's love, Olivia's sisterhood, S

s a

ded. All my talent, all my hard work, meant nothing. They had taken my hand, the source of my art. T

was a bitter laugh

Eleanor stepped in, her face arr

hispered, rushing to my bedside. "O

arm felt like a bra

and calculating in her eyes, before the mask was back in place.

s voice, deliberately weak and shaky.

ion shifted. The manufacture

alled out, already turning a

erile silence. She left me with the beeping of the monitor, a hollow

felt a profound, chilling clarity. They ha

was no

on. The pain in my side was a roaring fire, but an

m win. I wouldn't

ogical father. And with it, a phone number. A number my father had given me before he died, for an em

button. A n

call," I rasped, my voic

e with pity. "O

s were clumsy, shaking, but I managed t

ing voice answe

my throat. "My father was Captain David Miller. He tol

of the line. Then, the voice came back, so

ur call, son. Tell me whe

had placed in the Wilsons, in Sarah, snapped. I was letting g