Trapped

Chapter 32: AFTER

Chapter Thirty Two:

A list of possible suspects.

—

A SOFT KNOCK vibrated through the door.

Despite the faint sound, it was enough to pull me out of trance. My heart was still pounding rapidly and loudly inside my rib cage. Aside from that, I was having trouble with breathing. I tried to steady my breath, but the memories replaying in my mind only made it worse for me to stay calm.

“Is there something wrong?” Sebastian’s voice resonated inside the room.

Glancing my eyes towards the sound of the voice, only did I notice that he let himself inside. As our eyes met, pure worry etched on his brown orbs. He walked towards me with a sense of urgency.

“Are you alright, Max?” he questioned, reaching out to the pitcher of water on my bedside table, then poured some on a glass. “Here, drink this.” Offering it to me, I took it with shaking hands, but his hold on the glass didn’t stray away as he guided the glass while I was drinking the fluids.

However, I’m aware that water alone wouldn’t help my situation.

I wanted to tell him that I’m fine, but there was no denying that I’m clearly having a panic attack. So I shook my head sideways, hands trembling, and with unsteady breath, I responded. “No… having… trouble.. breathing,” I did my best to relay the situation to him even though I could feel that my mind would shut off anytime soon.

“Meds… inside… drawer…” I added.

Sebastian moved swiftly without questions asked. For he already knew what I was talking about. I kept the medicines prescribed to me at my bedside table’s drawer for easy access. There were tons of medicines inside the pouch, and he was having trouble finding which one I needed. Then I remembered that what I needed wasn’t inside my drawer since I just used it yesterday.

“Bathroom… i-inhaler,” I mumbled, and he dashed to the bathroom inside my room.

When he came back, he immediately passed the inhaler to me, and I took a long drag. I could instantly feel the drug widening my airways, slowly making it easier for me to breathe.

The moment that my breathing returned to its normal state, I stifled a sob.

I didn’t want to cry in front of Sebastian… again. It’s been happening a lot of times in the past days, and the fact that she’s my sister’s boyfriend—doesn’t sit well with me. Even though I appreciate him comforting me, it felt like I’m betraying Maxwell at some point.

— and I didn’t want that.

Not when I know that her soul died along with my body.

“Do you feel better now, Max?” Sebastian asked as the tears pooling inside my eyes blurred my vision, making it hard to see his face. He was standing in front of me while I sat on my bed. Sebastian was in a crouching position to match the level of my eyes. When I noticed his discomfort, he pulled the chair by the table not far from where my bed was, then sat across from me. “Still having trouble breathing?”

Shaking my head, I answered. “My breathing’s fine now. Thank you, Sebastian,” I muttered my appreciation to him. If he didn’t let himself inside the room, I would have passed out five minutes ago.

“What happened, Max?” he asked, seemingly aware of the fact that there was more to it than just a random panic attack.

Due to the PTSD that I’m suffering from, it was normal for me to experience episodes every now and then ever since the incident. But what I noticed was that Sebastian seemed like he could see underlying reasons as to why I was experiencing such things. Is it because he had always been observant when it came to my sister’s well being?

Sebastian is a caring boyfriend to Maxwell. I’m mindful of that fact even before I wasn’t aware that their whole relationship was just arranged by our father. After learning their set-up, I thought that Sebastian’s treatment of Maxwell was different when they aren’t in public. Which is why I came to a conclusion that maybe Maxwell didn’t like Sebastian because he was cold and a snob when they’re alone.

Although, my conclusion didn’t age well.

It was rather the opposite.

The man was willing to miss days in his work just so he could tend to Maxwell’s needs, and in order to make her feel safe and protected. He was really hands-on when it came to taking care of my sister. Never once he overstepped—just like what he said before—he mostly kept his distance, but still close whenever I needed the help. Aside from that, I never heard him complain about the whole ordeal or just taking care of me in particular. Sebastian never spoke ill of me even if I’m aware that it would be a hard task taking care of me after being involved in a traumatic experience.

“Hey,” he called for my attention upon noticing that I was zoning out too much and too frequently. “What’s the matter, Max? You can talk to me… I’m all ears.” Concern was written all over his face, and worry laced in his voice.

“Uhm,” I stuttered, not knowing how to respond to his offer.

I thought about it for a second. Do I tell him everything? Or should I just keep all of this information to myself? What was the best thing to do? I don’t even know the answer to all of these questions popping inside my head.

All of a sudden, I recalled Azrael’s and Kaleigh’s conversation when I was half-conscious during the coma—well, not entirely conscious in a physical state, but my mind was conscious during that time. Hence, why I was able to overhear snippets of their conversations even though I wasn’t supposed to.

“Remember, youngling. She shouldn’t be running around and telling everybody about what happened to her.” Azrael said, voice stern.

“Wait, Azrael. Do I tell her that? I thought that I shouldn’t show myself to Chandria?” Kaleigh answered.

Azrael hummed. “Yes, you shouldn’t. Give her at least a warning, that would