Deep Betrayal

burst a light so brilliant the whole world burned white-hot. A ripple of spasms tore through my body and lifted me into the air, dropping me onto the rocks, gritty and wet and hard against my grasping fingers.
    And then everything went black.

35
ACCIDENT
    I drifted in and out of consciousness. Men were talking in mix-and-matched sentence fragments and non sequiturs. Some of the combinations made me laugh out loud, but laughing made me sound hysterical, and hysterics only increased the din of their concern.
    “Explain this,” said the angriest voice.
    “I didn’t do it,” said the saddest. “I didn’t do anything. I would never do this to her.”
    “You weren’t trying to be a hero?”
    “She didn’t need one. She was still alive.”
    “Then what the hell is this supposed to mean?”
    “I don’t know. I’ve never understood her.”
    I arched my back and opened my eyes to a cloudless sky, patchy and blue through the tree branches. Skin pulled tight across my rib cage. I levitated. No, wait, someone was lifting me from a car. Gravel crunched under their feet as they carried me down a road.
    “Careful, Lily. Be still. We’ve got you. You’re home.”
    “Dad?” I croaked. “Where did you come from?”
    “I’ve always been here. Now don’t talk.”
    “Where’s Sophie?” My throat constricted, and the words came out like a rasp.
    “I’m not speaking to you,” she said.
    “Put me down. You don’t have to carry me.” I struggled in a net of arms, but Dad and Calder tightened their grip.
    “Get in the house, Sophie. Tell your mom we’re coming,” Dad said.
    My muscles seized, arching and twisting me in their arms. Pinwheels of light spun in my field of vision, and I squeezed my eyes so tight I feared they’d turn inside out. Blood filtered over my tongue as my teeth pierced my bottom lip.
    “Let me go!” I cried, trying to break free of Dad’s grip, but I couldn’t feel my legs. For the first time, I was truly afraid. Did the chain break my neck? Am I paralyzed? Is this why they are carrying me? Me and Mom both in wheelchairs? It was too much to comprehend. “No!” I cried.
    “Easy, baby,” Dad said. “Everything’s okay.”
    But I could hear the lie. Tentatively, I reached down, afraid of what I’d feel. Afraid of feeling nothing. My fistsrefused to unclench, but slowly I willed my hands to open, letting my fingers stretch to their full length. The first thing I found were the remains of my shorts, hanging in fringed tatters from the waistband. I combed the strips of cotton through my fingers and took a deep breath. If only I could feel my fingers against my legs, I knew I’d be okay. No one would ever hear me complain if it was just a broken leg. I laid my hands flat against my thighs, relieved to feel my palms hot against my skin, but gasping at the sensation, because beneath my fingertips was the familiar texture of smooth scales over compact muscle. In a panic, I replayed my slip off the rock, the sinking, the air burning up in my lungs. I remembered the flash of light.
    “You changed me?” My voice was a coarse grating—like the bottom of a boat against the sand.
    “He says he didn’t,” said Dad, whom I’d now located at my shoulders.
    “I didn’t!” Calder said, from my feet, or fin.… I didn’t want to look, but peeked through my lashes. All I could see was a twitching blur of pink that caught the sun and flashed light in my eyes.
    Calder and Dad carried me up the porch steps, and Mom called through the screen door. “Jason! Jason! Oh, thank God you’re home! What are you—? What’s wrong with her? Lily!”
    Sophie held the porch door open, and Dad and Calder carried me in. The pain was unbearable now—like waves of broken glass pulsing through my bone marrow. I writhed and twisted as my skin pulled and joints strained in their sockets. Somewhere in my head, Mom was screaming.
    “Blankets!” Dad yelled, and Sophie pulled quilts off beds and the afghan off the couch. My tail knocked over a floor lamp as I thrashed and seized uncontrollably.
    Mom whimpered nearby while Calder cocooned my body with the blankets and placed couch cushions around my head to stop me from slamming it into the wood floor. Already, a goose egg rose up at the back of my skull.
    “Shhh. Shhh,” he said. “Just breathe. Deep breaths.”
    I screamed in agony against the ripping. Could they hear me tearing in two? It was so loud in my ears. Tears burned like acid behind my