“Giselle! He’s still out there!”
“I doubt it,” she said emotionless. “The Yeti would have eaten him by now…and I don’t think he’ll heal from that,” she scoffed. Then she must have seen Hailey’s look of horror. “You should be thankful,” she said crisply. “Now you don’t have to decide who to love.”
“We can’t just leave him out there!” Hailey yelled, pushing past her.
Giselle grabbed her arm and dragged her toward Eureka Hall.
“Yes,” she said sharply. “We can, and we will. If I let you run back out there like the idiot you are, those Yetis will snatch you up in an instant, and then Asher would blame me.”
Giselle kept a firm grip on her.
“Giselle, we have to help him!”
“Listen,” she said impatiently. “If by some miracle Pádraig survived, I’m sure in a month or two, he’ll track down all his parts, wiggle them together, and once again grace us with his presence.”
“Really?” Hailey sobbed.
“I hope not. I can’t stand him.”
Hailey spent all night clutching her hockey puck and blowing her nose.
A little after midnight, Giselle stirred. “Don’t even think about it,” she grunted from the ceiling when Hailey reached for her shoes.
By morning, Hailey’s face was swollen and blotchy. Her throat was raw and her stomach had tied itself shut. Robotically, and with her eyes a slit, she grabbed her shampoo and bathrobe and headed for the shower. For several minutes, she let the water pound over her face before she punched the faucet off and donned her robe.
When she emerged, a familiar Russian voice echoed down the hallway. Alexei, the goalie maybe?
“Yes, eets tonight at Cheenook,” he yelled over his shoulder as he headed for the stairs. “See you ullater!” he called as he left.
Hailey tiptoed down the hall, and when she reached the corner, she held her breath.
Chapter thirty-five
Conundrum
“The day breaks not, it is my heart, Because that you and I must part.” - John Donne, Stay, O Sweet
Hope is manic. The proverbial light at the end of a tunnel. In the same day, it either soothes like a candle in the night, or it blinds then pulverizes like a freight train. As Hailey gripped the corner wall, she clung to the image of her candle in the night and peeked around the corner.
Fin’s door was cracked open, and his lights were on.
Very cautiously, she tip-toed closer in her bare feet, hair still dripping wet, her white robe clinging to every goose bump on her body, and she swore she heard a drawer open and close inside his room.
Then a figure crossed in front of the door, and the whole scene felt suddenly familiar. She was in her Pittsburgh townhouse, staring at a door she was sure would open to reveal her lost sister.
And she was scared.
With her heart in her throat, she crept toward Fin’s room, and she caught another glimpse of the man, who bore a striking resemblance to her slain friend.
Dropping her shampoo, she quickened her pace and stopped just outside the door.
“Oh, hey Hailey,” said the man nonchalantly as he turned to face her.
“Sidney?” Hailey moaned, not even trying to hide her disappointment. “What are you doing in here?”
“Just…catching up…on some team business…?” he said frozen in uncertainty, his eyes bouncing right and left.
Rubbing her head, Hailey slumped her shoulders. “You shouldn’t be in here,” she told him, her heart dropping like an anchor.
