Lucia shook her head.
“It really doesn’t matter,” Jules said, shifting in her seat. “We got her! And there are no goons with guns taking her from us, and we’re scot-free on the way home. We should celebrate. Francesca, do you still have—”
“Watch out!” Francesca shouted.
Tires screeched.
Lucia had just enough time to see Jules’s eyes widen in the rearview mirror—then the world tilted.
Not like this.
The near-miss from earlier flashed through her mind, and she braced her body for impact.
A sharp bang of metal on metal cut the air.
Everything seemed to slow down. The screams around her blurred into a hollow echo, like she was underwater. Jules’s gear flew into the air, a burner phone spinning free of its bag in slow motion.
The van tilted, then flipped, landing hard on its side.
Glass shattered, and Lucia’s seatbelt bit into her ribs as the impact knocked the air from her lungs.
Then everything went black.
Chapter 35
Wired
Penelope’s phone was vibrating on her nightstand.
Blurry-eyed, she seized it and accepted the call without checking caller ID. “Yes?”
“It’s Lucia. There was an accident. She’s at Grady. Come. Now,” Jules croaked.
Penelope shot upright, her mouth going dry. “I’ll be there.”
After she almost fell in her haste to scramble out of bed, Penelope threw on clothes with shaking hands and rushed out five minutes later, her heart lodged in her throat.
Wasn’t the run supposed to happen tomorrow? An accident could mean anything—something at the warehouse or on the road. She didn’t know. She only knew she had to get there.
Why didn’t you ask more questions?
She considered calling Jules for details, but with her hands trembling and blood roaring in her ears, she couldn’t risk distractions on the freeway.
Twenty-five minutes later, she was already striding toward the hospital entrance when she finally hit dial.
“Where are you? Where’s Lucia?” she barked.
“I’m in the hallway outside her room, 319, on the third floor, arguing with the staff.”
“Maybe don’t do that.”
Penelope clenched her fingers around her purse strap, eyeing the lights in the elevator panel as they blinked up to the third floor.
She gazed at the signage, turned right, and quickened her pace when she spotted Jules’s lanky form standing outside a hospital room, her foot tapping an erratic rhythm on the floor.
Penelope clenched her jaw. The sterile, antiseptic scent in the air did nothing to ease the nausea twisting in her gut.
“What happened?” She clutched Jules’s trembling hand. “You’re hurt.” Bruising bloomed along Jules’s neck, and dried blood crusted on her split lip.
