“It’s nothing.” Jules shrugged, then winced.
“Right. I can see that.”
“It all went well, but…I don’t know.” Jules wiped at her eyes. “I fucked up and drove through a red light on the way back, and a car hit the van—right where Lucia sat.”
Penelope’s lips parted, her gaze drifting to the door labeled 319. “Is she…”
“She’s groggy. On painkillers. They said she has mild head trauma, bruised ribs, some cuts and stuff, but nothing’s broken.”
“Thank God. What about the others?”
“Like me. Some bruising. We’ll all be sore tomorrow, but nothing serious. Skye sprained her wrist. She’s inside with Lucia right now.”
“Francesca?”
Jules sighed. “She left right before the EMTs arrived. I’m assuming she’s home.”
“She just left you all there?”
“She doesn’t do hospitals. Besides, we were fine. I mean… She couldn’t stay either way. We heard sirens, and…” Jules glanced around. “She did check on all of us first.”
Penelope nodded. “Can I—can I go inside?”
“Yes, of course.”
Penelope paused, then straightened and pushed down the door handle.
Inside, Skye glared at her, but Penelope didn’t have it in her to care as her gaze zeroed in on Lucia—frail and bruised, a bandage wrapped around her temple, a faint smear of dried blood still clinging to the edge. The IV stand beside her cast a thin, skeletal shadow across the bed, and the soft beep of the monitor amplified every beat of Penelope’s panic.
She drew closer.
“Hey, you,” she breathed, tracing her fingertips over the back of Lucia’s hand. “Don’t think you get out of your raincheck like this.”
Her vision blurred.
A beat of stillness filled the room.
“Did you do this?” Skye’s voice jarred her out of her thoughts.
Penelope’s gaze snapped toward her. “Do what?”
“Did you tell Varnelli about us coming?”
“What? I thought it all worked out?”
“We got the red lady, yes, but Varnelli was there, and it seemed like she knew we were coming. So, did you let something slip?”
Penelope gritted her teeth. For a split second, she wondered if Skye’s paranoia was justified, if her own call had tipped something, but no. “Why on earth would I do that?”
Skye shrugged. “You tell me.”
“That’s insane. I worked with you to bring her down. Why would I help her now? Not to mention, I’d never do anything that could endanger Lucia.”
Skye held her gaze, as if measuring her sincerity, and something in Penelope twisted, tight and furious, begging to be let out. How dare Skye accuse her of something like this?
“I didn’t even know it was happening tonight.” She dropped into the chair next to Lucia’s bed.
“So you say.”
