Sydney sat up straighter, smoothing down her hair, and clutching Banana in her lap like a talisman. Her nerves had dissolved on the drive. All that was left now was excitement. Her heart beat like a hummingbird’s wings. The anticipation and joy so much it was almost too much for her to contain.
The driver pulled up to the security booth by the front gate. The guard inside was broad shouldered, with a pair of sunglasses hiding most of his expression. He stepped up to the car window with a welcoming smile.
“Good afternoon.”
Sydney leaned over from the backseat, smiling brightly. “Hi! I’m here to see Greg.” She paused and when he didn’t immediately respond she tried again. “Gregory Thatcherson.”
The guard blinked, then frowned slightly. “Do you have an appointment or a reservation?”
“I... I’m his girl,” she said quickly. “He works here. He invited me to come stay for a few weeks. I”—she swallowed the sudden lump in her throat—“I flew in from South Africa to see him. He was supposed to fetch me from the airport, but I took an earlier flight so I’m hoping I caught him before he left.” She held up her phone, thumbs fumbling to unlock the screen and find the photos he’d sent her. “See? This is him. Greg. He’s one of the guards here?”
The man took a step back, his expression going from friendly to concerned. “I’m afraid we don’t have a Greg Thatcherson working here, ma’am.”
Sydney’s already faltering smile fell from her face completely. “What?”
The driver let out a sigh, tapping the wheel. “Look, miss. You gonna get out or what? I need to get back to the airport, this was a far drive.”
“My name is Jacob Andrews and I’ve worked here for a while, ma’am, and I know the team. I can check the staff list again, but I’m afraid there’s not a Greg Thatcherson here. I don’t believe he’s ever been a guard at Rawhide Ranch… not now. Not ever.”
Not ever.
Suddenly with those two words, the car felt too hot. Too small. Her chest tightened.
“Please, just... can I show you the messages?” she begged, unbuckling her belt and pushing the door open. She stumbled out, gripping her phone and Banana like lifelines.
When the guard noticed her stuffed bunny, his expression softened but she couldn’t let that penetrate, not in her current state.
“Look! Look at the photos he sent me. He said this was his room. His badge. This one is ofyour gate, right there behind him?—”
The guard held up a hand, still calm, but firm, regardless of his softened expression. “Little one, I’m going to need you to calm down for me. Can you take a couple of deep breaths with me?” Even as the guard inhaled deeply to demonstrate what he’d requested, he shot the driver a reproachful look as the guy muttered something under his breath and revved the engine slightly.
“I don’t understand,” Sydney whispered, blinking furiously. Her fingers trembled on the phone screen, trying to scroll through messages, images, anything that would prove she wasn’t insane. “I don’t understand what’s happening. This can’t be happening.” The words kept running in a loop over and over and over in her head.This can’t be happening.
But it was.
“Did I come to the wrong place?” she whispered, staring at her screen before staring up at the guard who was pulling out his phone to probably call the cops to come and take away the crazy person at their gates. “Is he at the airport right now, looking for me?” she said, again talking to herself, but the question was spoken out loud, directed at the guard whose expression filled with even more sympathy.
Her breathing turned ragged. What if this was all fake? What if her dream man had catfished her from all the way across the world? She clutched Banana tighter, the soft fur growing slickwith Sydney’s anxious sweat. The edges of her vision began to blur, like fog creeping in from the corners of her mind.
Sydney knew what was happening. She recognized the symptoms, even if she hadn’t had an anxiety attack in years.
But recognizing them didn’t mean she could stop it.
The guard said something again, but she couldn’t hear it. Her ears were filled with rushing static. Her knees buckled.
And then. Arms surrounded her.
Warm. Strong. Familiar.
She was vaguely aware of being held carefully. Not grabbed. Not restrained. Held with consideration andcare. Her back was pressed against a broad chest, a low voice murmuring something steady and calm near her ear, grounding her.
She tried to lift her head to see who it was, but her body had other ideas. The lack of steady oxygen coming in finally caught up. The static got louder, the world spun once more, and then it went dark.
The first thing Sydney felt was warmth.
Not the feverish kind that came from the panic or being sick, but the comforting kind. Like a warm campfire. Something soft was behind her head, and someone’s arms were still around her. Protective. Steady.
Her eyes fluttered open.
