And the next words I hear have the phone slipping out of my grasp.
I watch it fall in slow motion, tumbling end over end, but Zacharie’s hand darts out and catches it before it hits the ground.
“What’s wrong?” His voice is sharp. Alert. All traces of warmth replaced by something hard and focused. “Mira. What happened?”
“D-Dane...”
“What is it?”
“That was the hospital,” I hear myself say. “Dane was shot.”
Chapter Ten
ZACHARIE TAKES CHARGEof Dane’s confinement the way he took command during Trina’s wake. And this time, I’m grateful for it...because life keeps getting crazier by the second, like a rollercoaster ride that only slows down when Zacharie is around. He’s like the guy in the control booth as he keeps my roller coaster of a life from falling off the rails. But he’s also seated next to me inside the car, holding my hand, reminding me to breathe, or just telling me to look into his eyes so I’ll know I’m safe.
And I do know that.
But Dane, though...
I know this is stupid, but why does it feel like everyone around me is either dead or almost dead?
The hospital smells like antiseptic and panic, and I don’t know which one is making my head spin more. Voices overlap, doctors, nurses, and someone crying somewhere down the hall, while the fluorescent lights seem like they’re trying to burn everything clean, including my thoughts.
Dane is alive.
I keep telling myself that.
Alive is good. Alive is enough. Alive should be enough.
“He’s in surgery,” someone says. A nurse, I think. Or maybe a doctor. I nod like I understand what that means, like I know how long it will take, like I know what comes after.
Zacharie understands.
He always does.
He speaks quietly to the staff, his tone calm but unyielding, the kind of voice people listen to without realizing they’ve already decided to obey. Names are exchanged. Credentials verified. Orders rerouted. Security doubled.
