Page 45 of Royal Havoc

After I’ve taken a few breaths, he calls, “Enter.” Then stands, grasping his hands behind his back.

The door opens, and reality slaps me in the face, spinning the world around my lifeless body. Neither of us speaks.

“Would you like to sit?” Dr. Bolton asks, cutting the charged silence growing between us.

She finally breathes. “My sweet baby,” she rasps dryly.

“You let him give me away.” I counter softly, completely entranced by the ghost in front of me.

Tears leak from her pale blue eyes, matching mine. “I didn’t know,” she tries to assure me softly. “I miss you so much. I —”

“Why didn’t you save me?” I question.

Before she can answer, the door opens again, and I’m staring at him.

“You lied,” I accuse, raising my voice. “Why did you leave me?”

“Bringing you here was your Gramps idea. This is his place,” Dad throws out, watching me with disgust.

“What?” Searching both of their faces. My head snaps to the side. “Is it true?” I ask the doctor.

“Yes,” he answers simply, without any emotions.

Mom steps towards me. “I wasn’t allowed to see you. But I fixed it. I gave it all away. I’ll visit now,” she rushes, more tears falling.

I step back, shaking my head. “You’re leaving me here?”

“You tried to —”

“No,” I cry, cutting Dad off. “It was an accident.”

“Stop lying,” he barks. “All you do is lie,” he growls evilly.

“I hate you,” I shout.

“Good,” he grits. “I’m leaving. There’s nothing here for me.”

Mom flinches when the door slams behind her. “Princess, calm down. I fixed it. I’ll visit,” she promises.

“I never want to see you. You told me you loved me. But you let him give me away. You didn’t save me,” I shout, rage burning my skin.

“Tulip,” Dr. Bolton says sternly.

“I know you’re hurt and mad. But, I love you, princess,” she cries.

My soul bursts, exploding inside me, tiny pieces stabbing my heart. I charge towards her, but someone scoops me up beforeI reach her. I kick and scream, clawing at the arm holding me, fighting my hardest to get to her.

“Let me go! I hate you!” I scream.

Why won’t my eyes open? And why is my tongue scratching the top of my mouth? I can hardly swallow. What’s wrong with my arms?

“Tulip?” Dr. Bolton’s voice sounds muffled.

“Huh?” I grunt, trying to wake up fully. “Where am I?” I ask, finally able to force my eyes open.

“We’ll talk later. Use this time to reflect on what you did. Your actions. The silence you need to learn how to master,” he clarifies.

“No, I’m sorry. I’ll be good. Why can’t I move my arms?” I whine, wiggling.

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