Page 67 of Samuel's Heart

I pull myself out from underneath him and then check to see where the blood is coming from. We’ve done first aid training, but I think this is above anything I’ve trained for. Adrian’sbreathing is becoming fainter, and the pool of blood beneath him is growing bigger by the second.

I use all my strength to tear the clothes at the knife’s entrance point so I can work on it. I try to put pressure on the stab wound, but the blood won’t stop. I pray to all the saints to make the ambulance come as fast as possible, and I let out a sigh of relief when I hear the sirens growing closer.

“Lucy, Daniel.” Adrian’s voice is full of regret, and my eyes fill with tears.

What the fuck did I do? It’s my fault he’s here, bleeding on the ground. I should be the one on the floor dying.

“Sam . . .”

Adrian’s voice is so low, I need to lean in until my ear is close to his mouth. Tears run down my face while I try to keep pressure on his wound.

“Don’t talk. They’re going to be here soon,” I say, looking down at his now-green face, noticing how much bigger the pool of blood is, and how my knees are now soaked in it.

“Sam,” he says again, and this time I listen. “Take care . . . Lucy, Daniel . . .” His eyes close and his breathing stops.

I turn him around and start compressions, as they taught us on the course.

I don’t hear the paramedics, but I find myself pulled up and moved away, watching as they work on him, and all the while, Adrian never regains consciousness.

I watch them put him on the stretcher and then rush around to get him into the ambulance. I watch them drive away, the sound of the sirens filling my body, and that’s when my legs give way and I fall to the ground like a thousand bricks.

My surroundings get darker, until my vision is gone, and my consciousness with it.

“Sam?” Rory’s voice overlaps with Adrian’s and the request he made the day he died.

I haven’t fully kept my promise because I haven’t been able to face Lucy and Daniel.

“Oh, God, Sam. I’m so sorry.” Rory wraps his arms around me and pulls me close. I slump against him, looking for the support he’s so easily giving me.

“I haven’t been able to go see them. Or go see him.” I bury my face in Rory’s chest, ashamed by my lack of courage. Ashamed to have walked away. Ashamed to have stayed on the force even after what I’d done, because it was the only thing I could do to redeem myself.

“It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong. You were only trying to do your job.”

“I should have been better. I should have been able to move past my fear. I shouldn’t have placed Adrian in danger. Or myself.”

“Sam.” Rory’s voice is hard and commanding. “You did what you thought was right. You tried to save other people’s lives.”

“But Adrian lost his.”

“Yes, he did, love. However, it’s not your fault. The one to blame is the guy using the knife. He’s theonlyperson responsible for what happened.”

I’m silent for a long time, not fully convinced by Rory’s words. I can’t shake the guilt for the choices I made that day. Guilt for freezing, guilt for following the perpetrator and placing myself in danger, and guilt for killing Adrian, even if indirectly.

“He used his body to protect me. It should have been me. I didn’t have anyone. I was alone, and he had a family. It should have been me.”

Rory’s hands grab my biceps and shake me like I weigh nothing. “Never say that again.” His eyes are dark and full of sympathy. “Don’t you ever say something like that again.Please.”

His last words break me and the tears I never shed for Adrian, for myself, and for what happened that day, all come to me in a rush. I cry myself tired, resting my forehead on Rory’s chest, while his arms keep me safe and warm. His soothing words, while indecipherable over my loud breathing and sobs, still do the job of giving me hope.

“Everything is fine, love.” He keeps repeating it. His calling me ‘love’ makes my heart sing, even at this moment when I’m broken to my core.

“I’m here anytime you need me. However, I believe you should talk to people who can help you move past your trauma and put things into perspective. People who can help you understand it’s not your fault and that what happened was an accident.”

I nod against his chest. Maybe he’s right and talking to someone could help.

“You must have been important to Adrian. He gave his life to protect yours. You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself, or put yourself in danger, like you do, to protect others. Your life is precious, and you should work on making yourself happy.”

I nod again. How do I do that, though?

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