Wicked princess

That’s an easy one. “My dad.” 

He continues typing things on his tablet. “What about the two other gentlemen in the room?” 

“I have no idea.” I eye them warily. “Should I?”

The scary guy winces and the girl with the blue-streaked hair kisses his shoulder.

A pang of guilt hits me. They all look so upset. 

“I—I’m sorry.” 

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Dr. Jones assures me. 

Dad’s eyes lock with mine. “You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetheart.” 

I didn’t but…

Panic rises up my throat.

Mom didn’t do anything wrong, either. She wasn’t acting like herself. 

She loves us. She would never hurt us on purpose.  

Another horrifying thought hits me. 

Did they take her away? Put her someplace where I’ll never be able to see her again? 

“I…um.”

The room begins to sway, and the cup of water slips out of my hand. 

“Where’s my mom?”

I need to see her, so I know she’s all right. 

The scary guy steps forward, only he doesn’t look so scary right now. 

He looks every bit as terrified as I feel despite the next words out of his mouth.

“Everything will be okay.” 

The other guy with the piercing green eyes walks over to the other side of my bed. “We got you.”  

I don’t understand any of this. “Who are you?” 

The mean one starts to speak again, but Dr. Jones holds up a hand.

“Bianca, can you tell me how old you are?” 

“Eight—” I start to answer until I look down again. I certainly don’t have the body of an eight-year-old. I don’t really feel like one either…whatever that means. “I think? I’m not so sure anymore.” 

Dr. Jones looks up from his tablet. “Can you recall the words I asked you to remember before?” 

I scan my brain. “Ball, tree, and bird.” 

He smiles. “Very good.” He looks at my father. “I want to run a few more tests, but it seems her short-term memory is still intact.” 

“Short term memory?” I repeat, not understanding. 

“That’s good, right?” scary guy asks. 

The doctor nods before he turns his attention back to me. “Can you recall anything about the accident?” 

Shaking my head, I clamp my mouth shut. 

I don’t want Mom to get in trouble. 

It wasn’t her fault.

Dad frowns. “Nothing at all?”

“Why won’t anyone tell me where my mom is?” I look between the two guys standing on opposite sides of my bed. “And who are they? Why are they here? What do they want from me?” 

“We’re your brothers,” the guy who looks like my dad barks. 

“Cole,” the short nurse from earlier hisses. “Calm down before you frighten her.” 

Too late. 

“You aren’t my brothers.”

Scary guy tries to reach for my hand, but I pull it back. 

“Bianca, I know it’s confusing and I know you’re afraid, but it’s true.” His brown eyes soften a fraction. “I’m Jace.”

“And I’m Cole,” the other guy declares.

No. Jace and Cole aren’t this old. 

“That’s not possible. Jace is eleven and Cole is ten…so is Liam.” 

Tears spring to my eyes. I need to see Liam. He’d never lie to me. 

“I know my brothers,” I yell, frustration clawing its way up my throat. “You aren’t my brothers!” My vision becomes blurry as I peer up at my dad. “Go get my real brothers and my mom.” 

Dr. Jones claps his hands. “Okay, I think that’s enough for now. Everyone needs to give her some space and time to process.” He starts ushering them out of the room. “I need to run some more tests. If Bianca’s feeling up to it, you can come visit her later.” 

“I’m not leaving,” my dad insists. “She’s confused and she needs someone—”

“She needs someone who’s not a pseudo-father,” someone grunts before the two claiming to be my brothers rush back into the room. 

“When you were six, you fell off the jungle gym, cracked your chin open, and needed five stitches,” the scary tattoo guy says. “It scared the shit out of Mom. She cried harder than you did.” 

I rub the faint scar underneath my chin as the memory rushes through my head. “How did you—”

“Because you’re my baby sister.” He reaches for my hand again. “I was the first person to hold you when you came home from the hospital. The first person to see you take your first steps in the living room, right by the fireplace. I know almost everything about you, Bianca. Like how you slept with a stuffed bear named Mr. Wiggles until you were twelve.” Visibly flustered, he points to Cole. “Or how when you were seven, Cole was playing ball in the house and broke Mom’s favorite vase, but he told Mom it was you.” 

That’s true. God, I was so mad at him for that.  

“Gee, thanks, dick,” Cole says before he addresses me. “All right, fine. I blamed you for breaking the vase.” He slaps his chest. “But who took the rap when you stole the entire carton of ice cream from Mom’s grocery bag and then threw up all over Mrs. Garcia’s dog five minutes later?” 

“Liam,” Jace and I say at the same time. 

Cole’s jaw works. “Right. But Mom knew Liam hated ice cream, so she didn’t believe him. She blamed me.”

I can’t help but laugh. Cole was pissed when he had to give Mrs. Garcia his weekly allowance so she could get her dog washed and groomed, but I told him he owed me for the vase. 

There’s no way they’d know any of those things if they weren’t Jace and Cole. 

I look at Jace who’s finally smiling, and I can’t believe I didn’t realize it until now. “You have Mom’s smile.” 

I turn my attention to Cole next. “And you look like Dad.”

He waggles his eyebrows. “Only way better looking, right?” 

A laugh flies out of me again because that’s totally something Cole would say. 

That’s when it dawns on me. “Wait a minute…if you guys are all grown up. How old am I?” 

They exchange a nervous glance before Jace answers. “Eighteen.” 

The news feels like ten-thousand bricks to the head. 

“I’ve been in the hospital for ten years?” 

“Not exactly,” Cole mutters before Jace shoots him a warning look.

“What?” I try to sit up in bed, but the pain makes it impossible. “What does that mean?”

Cole sighs. “You’ve been here for a month.”

That only makes me more confused. 

“How is that possible? If I’m eighteen like you claim, that means the accident happened ten years ago. But if I’ve only been here a month—” I stop mid-sentence because there’s something way more important that I need them to tell me. “Where is Mom? Where is Liam? Why aren’t they here?” 

There’s no way Mom wouldn’t be here. 

Jace squeezes my hand. “I know you’re confused, but everything will be okay.” 

“Where is she?” 

I’m tired of everyone ignoring my questions about her. 

About them. 

I turn to Cole. “Where—”

“Cole, don’t,” Jace warns.

Why won’t anyone tell me the truth? “Why—”

Oh, God. 

The inconsolable expression on Jace and Cole’s face twists my insides. 

“What happened to her?” 

Where are they keeping her?

“Mom—” Jace starts, but his voice catches mid-sentence.

“The accident,” Cole says, his voice a broken whisper. “Mom didn’t make it.” 

“No,” I scream, refusing to believe it. “You’re lying.” 

She can’t be gone. 

She wouldn’t leave me. 

“Bianca—” 

It’s the last thing I hear before grief sinks its sharp claws into my heart…and everything goes dark.