I hit send before I could second-guess myself. A few moments later, her response appeared.
Zelda:I saw her a couple of weeks ago, the night the Rebels played in Philly. Gia and I spent the night with her. She’s okay. Best she could be under the circumstances. We text every day.
Knowing Quinn had been with friends that night made me feel a little better. I’d felt her absence all during dinner with our parents.
Leo:Thanks. How’s Nate?
The reply was swift and cuttingly to the point.
Zelda:Dying.
I closed my eyes and shook my head. Of course he was. But what I wanted to know I couldn’t ask over the phone, and definitely not via text. Was he in pain, or at peace? Was Quinn doing okay at this point, or was she suffering along with him? Should I be up there, or would my presence make everything harder for both of them?
I finally decided to keep it simple.
Leo:If she needs me, or if you think I need to be there for either of them, tell me please. I don’t know the right thing to do anymore.
There wasn’t any answer. After waiting a few minutes, I put the car in gear and pulled away from the Iversons’ house, heading into the pitch dark of the country roads that wound between where they lived and my own gated townhouse community.
I’d just climbed out of my car in my own garage when the phone buzzed again.
Zelda:I will. I promise.
I blew out a breath and stretched my neck. This was all I could ask Zelda to do, and I couldn’t bring myself to put yet another burden on Gia, not when she was still struggling to stay upright with her own issues. I was about to slide my phone back into my pocket when the second part of Zelda’s message came through.
Zelda:She’s doing fine, Leo. Try not to worry about her too much. Quinn is strong, and she’s holding up. Be there for her after. She’s going to need us all then.
As if any power in heaven or on earth could keep me away.
