Gina tilted her head, looking at me curiously.
“Sorry. Something painful.”
“It’s all right. I know Edwin was…special to you. And to many of his students.”
I nodded, and a second later, I realized my eyes had closed. When had that happened? And why?
“I think I should go.” I tried to stand but my head swam, and the room seemed to tilt sideways. “I don’t feel well.”
Gina didn’t move. Just sat in her chair and watched me try—and fail—to stand.
My legs felt weak and shaky, and the cup slipped from my hand, splashing tea all over the floor. My eyes were so heavy, it was hard to keep them open. And when I tried to speak, my voice sounded far away, as if someone else were speaking.
“What’s…? I don’t… Can’t…”
As fuzziness crowded my consciousness and the edges of my vision went gray, I wondered with a detached sense of horror if I’d been drugged.
Gina rose from her seat. I swayed, almost falling to the floor, but she caught me. Sliding her arms around me, she dragged me off the chair. I tried to move, to at least bend my knees and attempt to stand, but I had no strength. My legs wouldn’t respond.
“Why?” I managed to get out, although my voice barely worked.
She didn’t answer. Just kept dragging me across the floor. Fear tried to seize me, bubbling up from deep inside, but it wasn’t strong enough to cut through the haze. Blackness crept in, and the last thing I remembered was a blast of cold air from outside.
CHAPTER 36
Theo
After wolfing down a quick snack,I left to find my phone. Penwould probably be home before I got back, but I figured it would be better if I had it rather than waiting until the next day. Especially if I’d left it out in the open. I wouldn’t put it past one of my students to play a prank on their teacher by hiding it or something.
Plus, I still felt an undercurrent of worry. I knew Pen was with Melanie. But I didn’t like what Sean had said about seeing Gina Morris outside his house. I had no idea why she’d be looking for Penelope, especially in a way that had such stalker vibes.
Granted, Sean could have been wrong. It might have been someone else, and he just thought it was Gina Morris.
Because seriously, why? What would someone like Gina Morris want with Pen? It couldn’t be about her late husband and his connection to the two victims. No one knew Pen had figured that out. I hadn’t even had a chance to tell Garrett yet.
None of it sat well with me. Which was why I turned toward downtown instead of heading straight for school. I’d pop into the Steaming Mug and see that she was fine.
More importantly, I was going to tell her how I felt about her. Maybe that was the silver lining of her not being home. I’d had a chance to freak out for a minute and now I could give some thought to what I was going to say to her.
Although, as soon as I found a parking spot outside the Steaming Mug, I had a feeling rehearsing what I was going to say would be pointless. The words “Penelope, I’m in love with you” were already on the tip of my tongue. As soon as I saw her, I’d crack wide open. Even if I made a scene.
I hurried through the biting wind and flung the door open. A few people looked up from their drinks as the blast of cold air blew inside. Sucking in a breath, as if I couldn’t hold it in another second and was about to announce my love for her from the doorway, I scanned the coffee shop.
But she wasn’t there. Neither was Melanie.
Letting out the breath, my shoulders slumped. Well, shit.
I went back to my truck and headed to school, tapping the steering wheel as if I was mimicking a drum solo. There was no music playing, though. I was just edgy.
The parking lot was over half full—there was a volleyball game—which also meant the building was already unlocked. Grateful for small, convenient miracles, I went in and was hit with the scent of popcorn from the concession stand in the commons. I nodded to a few people and headed upstairs to my classroom.
My phone wasn’t in my desk drawer, where I often kept it during the school day. I rifled through the clutter on my desk, and there it was.
That was a relief. I’d been afraid it might have fallen out of my pocket on the field during practice.
I powered it on, and it took a second for everything to load. I had a few texts, but none were from Penelope. A voicemail notification popped up, so I swiped to listen.
“Hey, it’s me,” Penelope said. “I’m stopping by the gallery for a few minutes before I go home. They have one of my paintings and want to return it to me. I was thinking of making soup for dinner if that sounds good to you. I—” There was a slight pause. “See you later.”
