Ninety-Nine Times, Then No More

the narrative was set: June Carrillo, the beloved indie darling, was the

EO, standing by his wife, Elena, who was also June's adoptive sister. It

into high gear. She rushed toward us,

arms around me. Her grip was surprisingly strong, her nails diggi

puppet, and she and Chase were the puppet masters. I played my part,

e pushing, shouting. A security line buckled. I saw a heavy stage light p

held me fast. "Stay close, sister," she whispered, h

light, too. And she

e didn't try to pull me out of the way. Instead, she shoved me forward, direc

oose and swung sideways. It missed me completely and crashed into June's shoulder

e lunged into the crowd, his eyes only for June. He scooped her up in h

even gla

rd, my face hitting the cold concrete floor. The impact knocked the wind

down. A piece of rebar from the broken security barrier, sharp and rusted, h

e exit. People were screaming, running. Someone stepped on my hand. Another

ess. The pain was immense, a fire spreading thro

ase

sper, lost i

rough. He didn't turn around. He didn't look b

o. The last shred of hope i

it. The f

every casual betrayal. The ninety-nine times he had broken my heart. And now, this. Lea

number on

promised myself

roar. The last thing I saw before I passed out was a kind-faced secur

ance. Now. A woma

rything w

up, the first thing I heard was the

gets a whole VIP suite for a bruised shoulder. The

r main artery by a millimeter. And her husband? Hasn't shown up onc

thick I could h

ather, a sister. But in the

nstant throb. But it was nothing c

and drifted back