“Okay.” Thomas reached for his jacket. “I’d like to, then. Refuse, I mean.”
Dr. Rosen slid her glasses onto the top of her head and peered up at him with closer scrutiny. “Do you have a parent or guardian here with you?”
“I’m eighteen.”
“A friend, then.”
“No,” bit out Thomas, his patience wearing thin. “I’m on my own. And I’m fine. Really. I’d like to go.”
Dr. Rosen examined him for a moment longer. “I’ll have a nurse draw up the discharge paperwork for you to sign. Hang tight, all right?”
“Sounds good, thanks.”
The moment Dr. Rosen was out of sight, Thomas slid off the gurney and snatched his jacket, wincing at the sharp bite of pain in his middle. A small cough drew his gaze to a bowed old man in a wheelchair. He sat with a flannel blanket across his lap, his wife dozing in the seat beside him.
“I sawnothing,” said the man with a wink.
Thomas grinned. “Thanks.”
Out in the waiting room, he was startled to find Hadley and Frankie waiting by the door. They cornered him the moment he appeared, talking one over the other. Like him, both of them were still dressed in their clothes from the gala, fabric spattered in orange and pink fill. While he’d taken hit after hit in the pool house, the rest of the party had been subjected to a paintball raid. A prank. The blame was attributed to students from a neighboring public school—a handful of townies who’d never gotten along with Hudson Turner and his ilk.
But why would they have taken Vivienne?
It didn’t make sense.
“The ride here was enough,” he said, elbowing past Frankie on his way toward the door. “You didn’t need to stay.”
“We didn’t stay for you,” said Hadley, falling into step behind him. “Vivienne’s in trouble.”
“You think?” It came out acerbic.
“Nobody’s seen her since the party,” added Hadley, lifting her skirts to jog alongside him. “Thomas.Did you hear what I said?”
Thomas pushed through the revolving door and into the broad heat of the morning. Down the road, several cabs were waiting. He made his way toward them, fishing for his wallet. In his pocket, his phone rang.
“Thomas,” called Hadley. “Walsh, wait! This is serious. We need to talk to you.”
He silenced his phone and rounded on Hadley, so that she was forced to draw up short.
“I was there, okay?” The ache in his chest was excruciating. “I was with her when those assholes took her. So, you don’t need to tell me Vivienne is missing, because I already know. I know, and it’s my fault. I need to get back to the house and tell her parents what happened, and then I need to call the police.”
“You’d be wasting your time,” said Frankie. “Vivienne’s stepfather isn’t filing a missing persons report.”
Thomas froze. “What?”
“My dad met with him down at the station this morning,” said Hadley. “Philip told him she went home early. He fed him this whole story about how she wasn’t feeling well, and so her mom took her back to the house early on in the night.”
“That’s not what happened.”
“You don’t think we know that? He’slying.”
“So tell your dad the truth,” bit out Thomas.
“I tried. He didn’t listen. He said I’m sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong—”
“She does tend to do that,” deadpanned Frankie.
“—and that I need to leave the Farrows alone.” Hadley fired off a scathing look in Frankie’s direction. “Apparently, Philip said she’s been grieving the loss of her ‘boyfriend.’”
