He shrugged.
I wanted to scream. Or cry. Or shake him until he talked to me like he used to, before Mom and Dad died and I became the person standing between him and the life he wanted.
Instead, I grabbed my travel mug and my bag. "I might be late tonight. There are leftovers in the fridge."
"Okay."
I left before the guilt could swallow me whole.
Valor Creek Hospital was a disaster before I even clocked in. Cole, the charge nurse, grabbed me the second I stepped onto the floor. "Thank God you're here. We've got overflow from a wreck on Highway 90, Martinez called in sick, and Dr. Trent is on the warpath about something."
Call lights flashed down the hall. A patient in 12 was waiting on pain meds. Someone in 15 was demanding to see a doctor. The waiting room was standing room only.
I didn't break stride. Just dropped my bag in my locker, tied my hair back, and got to work. This, at least, I knew how to do. It was easier to be calm when other people were panicking. Easier to be strong when someone else needed me to be.
By noon, my feet ached and I'd skipped breakfast, but the chaos had settled into something manageable. I stepped outside through the ambulance bay just to breathe air that didn't smell like antiseptic and fear. That's when I saw Caleb.
He was leaning against his truck in the parking lot, arms crossed, looking like he'd walked straight out of some Western I'd watched with my dad as a kid. He had on well-worn boots, a cowboy hat, and—my stomach dropped—a badge clipped to his belt.
I froze.
Something must have happened to Lucas. That was the only thought surging through my head as I walked toward him, my heart hammering so hard I could feel it in my throat.
"What's wrong?" I demanded. "Is Lucas okay?"
Caleb straightened, his expression unreadable behind a pair of dark shades. "He's fine."
"Then what are you doing here?"
"We need to talk."
"About what?"
He glanced around the parking lot, then gestured toward a bench near the edge of the building. "Not here."
I didn't move. "If Lucas is fine, then?—"
"Right now, he's fine," Caleb said, and the emphasis on those two words made my blood run cold.
I followed him to the bench and sat down, my hands knotted in my lap. Up close, Caleb looked exactly like he had yesterday when he'd fixed my porch light… solid, steady, and unbearably calm. But when he pulled off his sunglasses and faced me, there was something different in his eyes. Something that made me feel like the world had shifted and I was the only one who hadn't noticed.
"Your brother's been running packages," he said.
I blinked. "What?"
"For a development company. Red Rock Holdings. They've been using locals to move cash, documents, phones. Lucas got recruited because he needed money."
My mouth went dry. "That's insane."
"He tried to quit. That made him a liability."
"A liability for what?"
A muscled twitched along his jaw. "For keeping quiet about what he saw."
I laughed. "You're telling me my fifteen-year-old brother is mixed up with criminals? That's ridiculous. He wouldn't."
"He did."
