Chapter 5

The room smells of disinfectant. The air is cold and heavy; I struggle to keep my eyes open even though my goosebumps keep me alert.

I'm sitting beside the bed, my fingers intertwined with my father's. His skin is icy cold, his knuckles feel hard, and his breathing is already ragged.

He hasn't spoken for days, he just stares at the ceiling, lost, and I really don't know how to feel about it.

But suddenly his eyes focus on me and the calm disappears.

"Save her!" he shouts, and the sound makes me jump in place, because it caught me off guard.

I lean toward him, trying to restrain him.

"Dad, calm down, please. I'm here," I say, but he doesn't hear me.

He starts shaking, ignoring my request.

"It's your fault! It's your responsibility!" His voice is harsher, full of anger. And her eyes, fixed on me, leave no room for doubt: it's me.

It's because of me.

I remain still. My heart pounds in my temples and my throat closes up. I don't know what to say. He squeezes my hand with a force that seems impossible given his current state.

"You left her alone. I warned you and you did nothing!"

Tears blur my vision, I bite my lip to keep from crying.

"I couldn't do anything," I whisper, more to myself than to him.

He shakes his head. His gaze becomes more intense, more lost.

"Destroy it," he says suddenly, and the word cuts my breath. Destroy everything. Make him pay. Swear to me, Camille. Swear to me.

I can hardly breathe. I look into his eyes, I see the pain and despair mixed with a rage that I completely understand, even though much of it is directed at me.

I sit. I can't do anything else.

"I swear," I reply, my voice breaking. "I'll make him pay. I'll do whatever it takes."

His body trembles once more, the pressure in my hand lessens. The monitor's beep quickens and then becomes steady.

I don't move, and I don't cry. I just stare at his motionless face and let the sound fill the room. The nurse rushes in and tells me to come out, but I don't hear her.

There's nothing more to be done.

***

I open my eyes suddenly.

For a moment I struggle to get my bearings, but the sound of the sea and the gentle rocking of the yacht bring me back to the present.

I take a deep breath and bring my hand to my face. A tear escapes unbidden, hot and irritating. I wipe it away with the back of my hand and clench my teeth to stifle the trembling that rises in my chest.

That day my father died, and with him, the part of me that still believed in justice. Since then, only the promise remains. A promise that lives on.

The pain of that memory transforms into something harsher, more dangerous.

I feel anger. The same anger that accompanies me every time I doubt, every time I allow myself to think that I could leave it all behind.

But I can't do it. Not after what happened. Not after what I swore. And no, no matter how hard I try.

I sit up in bed, my breathing rapid and my gaze fixed on the door through which Adrian left a while ago.

He doesn't know it yet, but I've already marked him for the fire.

I'm not just going to approach him, I'm going to keep my promise.