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“Bryant!” Julia’s voice pierced the haze.

I stumbled.

My hand reached toward the pain.

Something warm coated my fingers.

I looked down.

Blood.

I tried to focus. Tried to stay upright.

Bryant was staring at me. The bat slipped from his hand as the color drained from his face as he realized what he’d done.

“No.” The word barely left him before his knees gave out. He collapsed to the floor. That was the last thing I saw clearly.

“Lane?”

Julia’s voice sounded miles away.

My knees buckled beneath me, slamming me to the ground.

Then she was beside me.

“Oh. Lane.”

I tried to answer. I tried to tell her I was okay, that I was still here. But my body had stopped listening.

“I’m calling 911,” she cried, her voice shaking.

The porch light blurred above me.

My vision narrowed, and I thought about Cali.

About the way she looked at me last night and the way she had said she wanted to give us another chance. I needed to call her. I needed to hear her voice.

The darkness crept in.

“Stay with me, Lane,” Julia whispered.

Her hands shook as she pressed something against the side of my head.

“Please stay awake.”

I tried. I really did. But everything faded.

The last thing I heard was Julia crying into the phone.

“Please hurry! There’s blood everywhere.”

And then there was nothing.

Fifty-Five

Cali

Lacy nodded as she balanced the phone between her shoulder and ear, scribbling notes across a sheet of paper. Short confirmations escaped her as her pen moved faster.