Page 164 of The Wright Man

I didn't even remember moving. One second I was staring at Gavin's face. The next I was sprinting through the hall, into the elevator, out of the lobby and outside like it was on fire.

My lungs couldn't keep up with the rest of me. My vision blurred. My heart was punching a hole through my chest.

I made it to the car. Almost.

I barely got the door open before I vomited all over the parking lot.

It came from my soul. From the deepest part of me. Heaving. Retching. A whole lifetime of betrayal and grief clawing its way out of my stomach.

I wiped my mouth on the sleeve of my hoodie and got in the car. Started it.

Didn't remember doing that either.

I was driving. Or floating. I wasn't sure.

The road looked too long and too short all at once.

I blinked, and I was back in my body. Back in that night. The blood. The screaming. The silence of my baby girl's body in my arms.

The face of the little boy who could've been her twin.

Her brother.

I didn't know where I was going. Just that I couldn't go back.

A horn blared. I'd swerved into the wrong lane. There was a flash of headlights, and an eighteen-wheeler missed me by inches.

My hands gripped the wheel tight enough to snap it in half. I jerked to the shoulder and slammed the brakes.

And then I screamed.

From the gut. From the bottom of everything I had left.

It wasn't even a sound—it was a purge. Like the grief was trying to rip its way out through my skin. Like if I screamed loud enough, maybe it would stop hurting.

It didn't.

I don't know how long I cried. Could've been five minutes. Could've been fifty.

But when I could breathe again, just barely, my fingers were already tapping the screen.

Maleek.

My heart. My anchor. My home.

I don't remember hearing the ring. But I remember his voice.

"Angel—are you o—"

"Maleek..."

It tore out of me before I could stop it. All breath. All ache.

I couldn't speak. Couldn't see. Couldn't breathe through the sobs.

But he knew. Of course he knew.

"Angel, baby, where are you? Are you hurt? Talk to me—"