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She opens her mouth to reply, but her phone starts to ring.

Then mine starts to ring.

And that seems like a very bad thing.

Our eyes meet.

“Oh no,” she says quietly.

Dread fills my chest. But I say, “Maybe it’s just people looking for us. We kind of disappeared.”

“Yes. But…why?”

Best case, it’s our siblings wondering why we’re not at our respective homes.

She pushes back off my lap.

I grab my phone first as she fumbles in her bag for hers.

“It’s Harley,” I tell her.

“Nora,” she says, looking at her phone.

Fuck. That’s not good.

“Harley, what’s up?” I ask, answering my phone.

“Lawson.” Harley sounds relieved. “Are you with Sutton?”

“Yes. We can be there in a few minutes. Is it Brewser?” It’s got to be.

“Yeah. But we’re at the hospital in New Orleans. Saint Michael’s.”

Fuck. “What happened?”

“We were at Perks and Rec. We were…” He pauses, then says sheepishly. “Practicing line dancing on the patio. He tripped and fell. Hit his head. He’s back with the doctors now. We don’t really know anything. But he wanted us to call you guys.”

My throat is tight, but I say, “Yes, of course. We’ll be right there. Who else is with him?”

“Nora’s here. She drove me, Wilson, and Leo. Alex is on his way. But I am guessing the waiting room is going to be full soon.”

That makes me smile, even as my heart aches. I know he’s right.

“We’ll see you soon,” I tell him.

“Don’t drive crazy,” he says firmly. “We are here. He’s not alone.”

“Promise.”

I watch Sutton disconnect from Nora and grab her leggings and panties. She shakes them out to get some of the straw off. I go to my backpack and pull out a pack of wet towelettes and a bottle of water. I hand them to her with a soft smile. She tries to return it, but I can see the tears in her eyes.

Dammit. I cup the back of her head and pull her in, kissing her forehead. That loosens the tightness around my chest a little, and I take a deep breath. I stay close as I say, “Harley, there’s something you should know.”

Sutton clearly knows what I’m about to say, and she slips her hand into mine. I link our fingers and squeeze.

I wanted to let Brewser tell his friends about his diagnosis, but if he’s in the hospital, the doctors taking care of him need to know everything. Sutton squeezes me back, reassuring me this is the right thing to do.

But before I say anything more, Harley says, “You mean the Parkinson’s?”