Into My Heart

XXXVI

(A/N: The next chapters will be multi-povs)

SAMANTHA 

There have, indeed, been business going down since the Press household's announcement that their third daughter in line and seemingly rightful heir to their shady empire has been in coma since an 'incident' that occurred three weeks ago.

Since then, nobody has been able to pay any visit of sort to Christen in the highly-guarded private clinic her parents have put her into during her coma. Although the meds almost killed her, rumor has it that her life is now no longer in danger, and that she may eventually wake up from her coma. Her mother and younger sister have been by her side every day since, while the patriarch of the family and his two eldest daughters have been in charge of the family empire, accompanied by a surprisingly fitting Shelina Zadorsky, soon-to-be Christen's wife - and it shocked everybody that the Press household would've considered her one of them so early, but what can they say? Shelina is beautiful, clever and strong: every magazine of Orange have declared her and Christen the couple of the century or some bullshit. 

Ever since Christen attempted to take her own life, Abby has been inconsolable: after getting fired by the Press family, she has barely left the bed Kristie and I had bought he in our apartment (thank God we had a spare room we could offer her). Coming to live with us was the smartest move, and both Kristie and I knew that: without us, she might not have survived those three weeks.

Because, you see, Abby feels responsible for what happened to Christen. Apparently, they had been engaged in a tough fight right before the Latina took the meds. And now, our long lost sister won't open the door to anyone. 

Even Kristie has been considerably shaken up by the events: after all, she was present in the Press household that day, and it was she and Shelina who heard the loud knock on the floor from the bathroom above... But, oppositely to Abby's lack of actions those past three weeks, Kristie has been running around, swearing to uncover the truth and make the Press family fall for our father's death. 

What about me, might you ask? 

Well, there isn't much about me: as always, I put everybody's tragic lives and drama in front of my own needs and thoughts. My relationship with Pat has deteriorated due to my lack of affection and communication those past months, ever since Dad died and I wasn't able to sleep at night, not knowing what a simple person like me would do against powerful families like the Press and their allies. 

You might call me coward, but somebody has to remain sane and close to reality in this mess.

 Kristie was doing some meaningless research on her laptop on the other couch, while I am reading my book, ironically titled How to remain calm in every situation?, when somebody rings at our door. After exchanging a hesitant look with Kristie, who immediately ran to the kitchen in order to hide a knife behind her back while she stands next to me, I nervously open the door.

"What are you doing here?" Kristie aggressively asks, her eyes throwing daggers at our visitor.

Or rather, visitors.

Frowning, I just stare at them, confused: Shelina Zadorsky and the two detectives showing up at our door? 

In shock, I wait for their reply, which is given by Shelina:

"We all need to talk..." the Canadian declared in a clear yet calm voice, before adding due to Kristie's non-emphatic attitude: "... privately."

Nodding my head, I open the door a little more widely, as Kristie stares at me like I am a mad woman. Turning toward her, I throw her a trust me for once, dumbass look, which she immediately understands and reluctantly agrees to. 

As we lead the way to our living room, we also anxiously watch as the two agents - Krieger and Harris, if I recall correctly - check out the apartment, before placing some device in the middle of the room, probably to make sure nobody is listening technologically-speaking. Once the three women are seated - no need to precise that Kristie is still standing, walking nervously, on guard. She hasn't let go of the knife just yet. 

Obviously, the agents had seen it, but they didn't think it was wise to let her know that. Instead, the blonde agent (Harris) starts:

"Ladies, thank you for letting us in..."

"... like if we had any choice..." Kristie sarcastically lets out, rolling her eyes.

"... we understand that there is a lot at stake and a lot of history between you and Mrs Zadorsky hereby sitting" she continues, ignoring my sister completely. I know she is only addressing me, before everybody else's eyes are on me as well, as she continues: "As you know, we have been investigating about the Press' business for years now, unable to uncover and expose their crimes... yet."

I frown. 

"Could you get to the point, please?" I politely ask, really not in a mood for charades or something. Before she gets the change to answer, I throw a stare toward Shelina, before asking, explicitly referring to her: "Maybe you can start by the reason why you thought wise to bring somebody who has been working with the very family you are willing to take down ?"

A smirk gets out of Kristie's face, and I can see her proud look on her face: indeed, sarcasm and sass usually are her expertise, not mine.

Ignoring her once again, Agent Krieger intends to start explaining herself:

"Well, as it as occurred, Mrs Zadorsky-"

But the Canadian herself isn't willing to let another woman speak at her place:

"Let me make it short and simple: Christen is my friend ; it has come to my ear that the Press' new plans involved violent murders of many people in town ; and... I am pregnant."

My eyes go wide. 

"What the hell? Didn't know Press had a penis."

Everybody turn toward Kristie, whose words just had the effect of a distraction.

"Miss Mewis, could you just concentrate and-" Agent Harris warns, but Kristie interrupts her again:

"I mean, it's fine if Christen has a penis, every human is beautiful, but I wasn't expecting her to-"

"Before coming here for the Press, I had a boyfriend, and, well..." Shelina immediately cuts short of Kristie's crazy theories, obviously hurting just at the thought of this man, as she states: "I just found out three days ago and decided that I needed to get out of this mess I put myself into because now I am the Press' public figure as their mafiosi daughter's fiancé."

A meaningful and shocked silence follows this revelation and Kristie's useless words, as I really start feeling nauseous: Shelina and Christen never were in love, and something tells me the Latina has only loved one person.

Before anybody can say anything - and I am staring at Shelina with so much empathy for her and her mother instincts that want nothing but to protect her child from this hideous family - I only say:

"Whatever is needed, count us in."