Page 203 of Whispers of Wisteria
“I do!” Julian perked. “Are they as amazing as I’ve dreamed?”
I glared at the two of them.
“Bianca.” Uncle Gregory’s voice was like a cold glass of water crashing over my head. “Can you talk about it through Dr. Ducharme?”
Titus straightened, suddenly alert.
“Don’t give me that look.” Uncle Gregory waved off his stare. “There are things to be discussed. She has trauma-triggered mutism. This will give her back the ability to communicate.”
“But she’d still be responding,” Titus pointed out. “Obviously she doesn’t want to.”
“It would be her choice,” Uncle Gregory replied. “That’s the point.”
My fingers tangled in the sheet as I looked between them.
I…
I wasn’t—
I didn’t want to—not yet.
“She says no,” Titus said, squaring his shoulders. “And I’m not going to force it. She’s going to be upset. She was gone.”
Gone?
What?
My chest felt like it was caving in, and my breathing turned short and hollow.
I’d come close to death so many times, yet somehow, I’d always managed to make it through. At some point I’d started to assume that it would always be that way.
I wasn’t ready…
“Bianca—” There was a weight in the air pushing against me. Uncle Gregory. “You’re here. You’re alive.”
My head was dizzy, and my breath began to slow as my heartbeat echoed in my ears.
I… was here.
My arms felt heavy, and I let myself be pulled through the dark. A warmth pressed into me, and the fuzziness of my thoughts melted away.
Steady arms wrapped around my shoulders before my thoughts drifted back into silence.
Miles POV
Damen sat behind his desk, his back straight, as Abigail paced the center of the room.
But she wasn’t the one leading the conversation.
“You’ve had her for less than three months.” Jonathon crossed his arms, his aura heavy with disapproval. He hadn’t dropped the expression since he’d arrived to redo the wards, as he hadn’t been happy with mine, and it’d grown steadily worse the longer he stayed. “And managed to unmake ten year’s worth of improvements.”
“How was she improved if she wasn’t living in reality?” Damen rebutted. “You lied to the fae. You lied to us. And you lied to her.”
“Wesavedher.” Jonathon’s voice took on a dark edge. “And you”—he waved, gesturing between us and Bryce—“let her die.”
Damen leaned back, then his brow furrowed.
“I didn’t ‘let’ her die,” he snapped. “But yes, there were some things we’d overlooked before. I will be remedying that.”
