I stood up, leaving my coffee. "Yeah, I do. I'll show you where Margot's room is."
Cal got out of his chair quickly, glancing at my coffee and then catching up to me. "You alright, man?"
"Not really. But I can't explain, either." I led him out of the cafeteria and to the stairwell where we both jogged back upstairs. "Wells' family is here. Will you let me know if she—" I faltered, for once unsure of how to ask something that should have been strictly medical.
"Yeah, of course," Cal assured me.We reached the second floor, and I led him down the quiet ICU ward. When we reached Margot's room, Wells was already outside of it, his head leaning against the wall and eyes shut.
We both slowed, and when Nash opened his eyes, they landed on Cal. "Hey, Reed."
"Hey, man," Cal said softly.
"Thanks for coming." Nash spoke slowly, like he was having a hard time mustering the energy to move his jaw.
"Anything you need, I'm your man," Cal assured him.
Nash looked at me. "You've been here all night. I can text you if she changes."
Was there any way to do this without guilt dragging a razor blade over my conscience? "I'm worried about Evelyn," I said honestly.
Wells' eyebrows lifted over the thick rims of his glasses. "Are you?"
"Are you?" Cal echoed incredulously.
"I can explain it all later—I need to see her." I waited, watching his reaction.
Wells didn't even blink. "Then you have to go."
"I'm sorry, I feel left out." Cal sounded almost accusatory.
"I'll fill you in later, both of you. But Wells,call meif she changes," I said.
"I will," he promised.
"Cal?" I confirmed, looking at him.
"Yeah, man. I'll give you updates for him. But I'm sorry," he put up a hand even as I moved to leave. "Is this about agirl? Romantically?"
"Have to go," I hedged, walking away fast.
"Oh my God," I heard Cal say. And then, unbelievably, Wells' chuckle followed directly after. If I wasn't leaving my friend crying, then I could do what I had to.
And Ihad togo to Evie. The tingling fear in the back of my head became a buzzing hive of angry bees. I didn't know how I knew, but I did. Evelyn needed me.
Chapter Twenty-Six
EVIE
I trailed my fingers through long Timothy grass, focusing on the tickle of feathery leaves on my palms and not on my riotous nerves. On the outside, I looked like my normal self. I wore a sage green, floor-length summer dress, and the tied bows at my shoulders swept softly against my skin as I walked. I looked calm and purposeful, heading to the abandoned barn like I'd told my viewers I would be doing. I'd gotten thousands of views and hundreds of comments—everyone was excited to see what I did with the barn. Anyone monitoring me wouldn't have missed it.
On the inside, my heart was a jackhammer. It slammed against my ribs, almost too painful to bear, almost too distracting to breathe around. Somewhere to my right, I knew a full tactical team was sliding through trees and bushes, completely out of view but only seconds from me. The van was well hidden in the foliage, and even yards from it, I couldn't quite make it out. I wouldn't see it until I was on it. The barn was just ahead, and as I approached it, the sky rumbled, threatening another deluge.
I wished Benjamin was with me. It wouldn't have worked if he had been—I wasn't as likely to draw intruders with him atmy side. And I couldn't imagine him outfitted in a bulletproof vest and darting from cover to cover in the forest, either. No, he would have had to stay behind, and that would have somehow been worse. Still. I missed him with an all-consuming pain, like a permanent welt over my hammering heart.
The barn had originally been built for storage but now it crumbled under the shade of overgrown oaks and maples. The aged, dark timber looked termite-eaten and fragile, and its simple rectangular shape had listed at an angle. Anyone who got agoodlook at this disaster would know that one woman with a couple of nails and some elbow grease would not be able to save it. The roof had caved in before I could even remember, and moldering decay had eaten away at the boards and rafters until it was an anemic skeleton of what it once had been. Hopefully, my attackers were not architects.
I approached the barn, my heartbeat almost drowning out the birdsong and critter chatter of the forest. My boots cracked over fallen branches and saplings, and despite my resolve to look relaxed, my eyes constantly scanned the thick woodland around the building. Nothing moved. Not so much as a rustle betrayed my silent guardians or a potential attacker. The reality of what I was doing here tackled me in the gut. I had to just pretend to go about my day like there might not be a predator in the shadows. The prospect had me sweating almost instantly despite the overcast weather.
I prayed someone would attack me soon. I prayed that I wouldn't have to pretend I wasn't panicking for hours. There was a rusted toolbox I'd brought out yesterday, and I drew in a long breath before starting forward and getting to work.
