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I hate him. I hate him. I hate him.

And I hate the Castaways.

“Jolie Auclair?”

Someone calls my name, and I am ripped out of my spiral. My leg stops shaking as I glance up at the nurse. She’s beckoning me into a side room.

Finally, my waiting is over.

I follow her down the hallway.

Fabien’s lying on the hospital bed when I enter the room. Machines surround him. There’s the steady beep of a monitor somewhere and the sharp sting of disinfectant. In here, it’s lifeless, clean, and soulless. I’ve not set foot outside this hospital since he was admitted. I’ve sat in that hallway outside this room, doing nothing. Sylvie and Elise came to be with me for hours, but even they couldn’t lift me out of the dullness.

As I waited, my heart grew cold. I didn’t cry. I barely breathed. I feared I would never see him again.

But he’s awake now. He’s alive.

Thank God he’s alive.

And he wants to see me.

From the bed, Fabien weakly smiles and ushers me over with a finger.

I’ve heard in detail about what transpired in that room in the Castaways' mansion. I’ve heard word-for-word what my father said. I’ve heard how the boys reacted. I’ve heard how Fabien had the courage to end it all, even though he was dying.

And I’ve heard how he blacked out with my name escaping his lips.

“Are you okay?” Fabien asks me in a breathless voice as I reach him. They are the first words out of his mouth. They are the first words I’ve heard him say since I last saw him walk into the Castaways mansion.

“Yeah, I am,” I reply, “but you shouldn’t be the one asking. I’m not the one who got stabbed. Are you okay?”

My man smiles faintly.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Especially now that you’re with me.”

“You total dick,” I say.

The tears finally come. They gush out of my soul. Uncontrolled. Shaking. Full blubbering, messy weeping.

“Oh, Jolie. Don’t cry...”

“I thought I lost you. I thought you were gone.”

Fabien reaches out with a hand and gently wipes my glistening cheek. It’s so tender that it’s heartbreaking.

“You’ll have to do a lot more to get rid of me.”

“How can you...”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m so sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” I ask him, hiccupping through my tears.

“I’m sorry for what I did to Cromwell. He was my second father, Jolie, and I killed him.”

“Fabien...”

“Listen to me. I knew I had to do it. But I saw his face, and I remembered the man who took me in all those years ago. He was so kind to do so, but he had done all these horrible things, and yet he’s your father. I killed him, Jolie. I had no other choice, but I still did it. I’m so sorry.”