“Sugar,” Maggie says, her voice tight. “There’s been a bad fire.”
The room tilts, nausea fills me at the words she just said.
All the blood drains from my face so fast I feel lightheaded, like I might pass out where I’m sitting. My stomach twists hard, sharp and nauseating, and my hands start to shake before I even know why.
I sit up too fast. The world blurs.
Ellie lets out a startled squeak in my arms, her little body jolting with me.
“Is Ollie okay?” I hear myself ask, but the words feel far away, like they’re coming from underwater.
There’s a pause on the other end. Too long.
“He was hurt on the call,” Maggie says carefully. “They’re taking him to the hospital.”
My heart slams into my throat, loud and frantic, like it’s trying to escape my chest. Adrenaline floods my system in a hot, dizzy rush. I can hear my own breathing, shallow and uneven, like I forgot how to do it properly.
Hurt. Hospital. Ollie. Everything inside me explodes into motion at once.
Owen’s already up, standing in the doorway, eyes wide and scared. He looks at my face and knows something’s wrong before I say a word.
“I’m on my way,” I say, forcing the words out, forcing my legs to work as I stand.
Owen doesn’t ask questions. He just runs. A minute later he’s back with both our coats and Ellie’s car seat, moving on pure instinct like I taught him to do in emergencies. That thought almost breaks me.
I pace the living room, hands useless at my sides, heart racing so fast it hurts. Oh my God. Oh my God. He has to be okay. He has to be okay.
We move in fragments. Buckling Ellie in with fingers that won’t stop shaking. Grabbing my purse without checking what’s inside. Slamming the door behind us.
We sprint downstairs to the truck.
The drive is a blur of streetlights and red lights and me gripping the steering wheel so hard my hands ache. Owen asks questions from the passenger seat, his voice tight, and I don’t have answers to give him.
Ellie starts crying, sharp and distressed, like she can feel the fear pouring off us in waves.
“I know, baby,” I whisper, even though I don’t know what I’m reassuring her about. “I know.”
I pull into the hospital lot too fast, tires crunching hard against the pavement, like I’m chasing something instead of arriving somewhere.
Like if I move fast enough, I can outrun the worst of it.
Like if I don’t stop moving, he’ll still be okay.
Inside, the lights are too bright. The air smells like disinfectant and cold. Maggie waits inside for us, and she pulls Owen in for a hug.
“Is Ollie okay?” he stammers.
I hand Ellie to her automatically. “Hold her for me. Please.”
She nods, jaw tight, eyes shiny. “Of course, honey.”
“Where is he? Is he okay?” I ask, my eyes wild and darting around.
“They took him back for tests. He fell through a barn floor,” Maggie says. “That’s all I know.”
“I need him,” I say to the woman at the desk, my voice cracking. “My husband is here. Ollie Kendrick.”
She doesn’t even flinch. “He’s okay. He’s getting checked out. I’ll take you back.”
