Page 78 of This Cruel Fate

Still, Xolia let him go, allowing Emily to swoop in and take him away from her. Through the haze of anger, she registered the other thing he had said. Peter was in the hospital.

“What hospital is the chancellor at?” Multiple people answered at once, but they all said the same thing. Meillus Hospital, it was the best hospital in Ris, close to Juthian Heights.

She thought she might say something to reassure the people that FAR was still the strongest party or that Peter would pull through, but words failed her. There was nothing eloquent that came to mind when her jaw was still sore and she was angry. Police sirens wailed. Xolia got back into the car. She waited almost twenty minutes before Emily joined her.

“We need to go to Meillus Hospital,” Xolia told the driver. He nodded and backed away from the gates of the Presidential Palace. As they were pulling away, Xolia got a glimpse of Atlas walking out through the front doors, impeccably dressed in a suit and a somber expression on his face. She forced herself to turn away, not wanting to see how he calmed the crowd.

Realistically, the drive couldn’t have lasted longer than fifteen minutes with the way the driver cut through the traffic and dared to take yellow lights that were a hair’s breadth away from turning red, but it still felt like an eternity to Xolia.

More journalists were waiting outside the front doors, filling the already-crowded parking lot. Law enforcement had put up barricades and now blocked the entrances with heavy guns. Xolia groaned. “Let me help you this time,” Emily commented wryly.

Xolia didn’t have the energy to argue. She nodded. She and Emily pushed through the thickening crowds and drew the attention of the press.

“Duck your head,” Emily whispered. Xolia did as she was told, and the two of them steadfastly ignored the clamor of the reporters. Xolia pulled out her phone to tell Adonis what had happened. Her fingers shook as they ghosted across the phone screen. Peter has to be okay. Her stomach rolled around. What if she was too late?

Fueled by her worst thoughts, Xolia picked up her pace, leaving Emily to follow her. Xolia slid through the revolving hospital doors and sped past the security desk. She was only vaguely aware of Emily doing damage control with the guards. All of her focus was on the front desk. “Where’s the chancellor?”

The receptionist looked up at her with wide eyes. “I’m sorry, but I cannot divulge that information.”

Xolia slammed her fist against the desk, which made the receptionist flinch. “Yes, you can. Tell me where he is.”

“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but?—”

Without thinking, Xolia reached out for the woman’s blood. She jerked upright, her fingers freezing on her computer keys. Her wide eyes widened even further. “I know he’s here,” Xolia pleaded. “Please, my name is Xolia Stone. Let me see him.” She let go of the woman, who fell forward in what Xolia thought was a grossly exaggerated manner.

“What did you do to me?” she whispered.

“Nothing.” Xolia looked around. Where was Emily? Where was anyone who could help her? Why wasn’t anyone doing anything?

Shouts and clamoring from outside filled the otherwise-calm room as the automatic doors slid open. Xolia turned to see if Emily had anything to do with it, but it was Atlas. His face was set in grim determination, and a retinue of guards followed him.

The receptionist greeted him immediately. “Vice Chancellor Campion, we have a team waiting to escort you to the chancellor.” She dropped her voice, like it was a secret that the chancellor was here.

Atlas nodded, only then did his gaze turn to Xolia. They locked eyes, he in his subdued mask, her a barely contained mess of emotions. “Atlas,” she sobbed. Tears streamed down her face, Sel, she could barely stand to think about herself, but Peter was worth the humiliation. “I need to see him.”

A long minute passed between them. He betrayed nothing. A team of hospital staff and security personnel entered the lobby. Atlas nodded once at Xolia. “She’ll be joining us.”

Another sob tore itself from her throat. Xolia managed to keep herself upright as she hastily wiped away the tears. Peter couldn’t see her like this. Emily ran into the lobby and placed herself behind Xolia. The large group made their way through the wide hallways to a large elevator. There wasn’t enough space for the entire party, so half of the hospital staff, Atlas, and Xolia stepped into the first elevator. The rest of their teams would follow.

Xolia shook the entire ride up. How could Atlas stand to be so calm? As much as she wanted to shake him and try to see that mask crack, she couldn’t bear to break the silence in the elevator. Up and up, it went in agonizing slowness. By the time it reached the tenth floor—which the doctors explained had been completely cleared except for Peter—tears were already slipping out of the inner corners of her eyes again.

“He’s in room 1559,” the head doctor explained. Xolia couldn’t remember whether he had introduced himself or not. It wasn’t that important, she brushed past him and Atlas and everyone else in pursuit of room 1559.

Inside, monitors beeped in a steady rhythm, the only indication that Peter was still alive. Xolia stood frozen in the doorway, taking in a breathing machine and multiple IV lines in his body. She had never been surrounded by so much medical equipment in her life.

Peter lay in a sterile white hospital bed, a mountain of thin blankets covering his prone form. His skin was gray, and his eyes were closed. Xolia’s heart stopped. Sel, he looked dead.

“Are you going to go in?” Atlas asked from behind her.

Xolia clenched her jaw. “Don’t you care?” She forced her body to move forward. The smell of harsh cleaning chemicals surrounded her. The curtains to the room were drawn shut. Atalia right after the rebellion had looked less bleak than this room.

“Of course, I care.” Atlas stopped next to her; he seemed just as fixated on Peter as she was. “Worrying won’t help him, though.” His voice cracked and Xolia turned to him. Under the unaffected attitude, she found immeasurable sadness in his eyes. “He’s been sick for a long time.”

“I wish he would’ve told me sooner,” Xolia whispered. If only she hadn’t wasted so many years ignoring his many job offers, she could’ve been by his side the whole time. Maybe she could’ve prevented this, somehow, some way. “It isn’t fair. First Silas and now Peter?”

“Silas got what he deserved,” Atlas said.

Xolia stared at him, her face contorted in disgust. What gave him the right to be so bitter? “But you still went and saw him.”

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