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Authors: Tricia Rayburn
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road, though long, wasn’t lined with many houses. It ended at our cul-de-sac. Which meant I’d be safe tonight … but what about tomorrow? The fishermen might simply be playing games right now, but what if they felt like tracking me down and doing something more serious later?
I slammed on the brake. The SUV swerved and I used the momentum to spin it around, change direction. I shot past the truck a quarter mile down; it slowed instantly and began to turn.
The speedometer needle hit fifty-five. Sixty. Sixty-five. Keeping one hand clamped on the steering wheel, I reached for my phone. I started to punch in the number I could still dial in my sleep even though I hadn’t called it in months … and then hung up before the last digit.
My instinct was to call Simon. To tell him I might not be okay, because once upon a time, he’d wanted to know. So he could help. He’d taken care of me at the lake house the other day, but that was only because he probably felt like he had no other choice—I was right there, next door. And if we had any chance together, the choice always had to be his. Just like it had been Mom’s.
I tossed the phone on the passenger seat and sped back toward town. The truck caught up as soon as I was slowed by stop signs and the occasional car. I turned down random roads, hoping the lack of direction indicated I was trying to lose them, to throw them off, so that they wouldn’t think to return to the winding street set high above the ocean.
This lasted minutes but felt like hours. I’d just blown past the Winter Harbor Library when red and blue lights flashed in my rearview mirror. They were so bright, I couldn’t see past them—or if the old truck tailed the police cruiser—but I pulled over anyway.
“I’m sorry,” I said, when the officer reached my open window. “I was speeding, I know, and I’m so sorry. But these guys in an old truck followed me from the hardware store and are chasing me all—”
I stopped. What was the point? The officer was male, young, and already smiling. He appeared to be listening, but I knew he didn’t really hear what I was saying. On top of which, besides our cars, the road was empty.
The fishermen, at least for now, were gone.
C HAPTER 7
V! Emergency staff mtg. this a.m. Can you be at restaurant at 9? xo, P
BTW, supershort notice, I know. So sorry!
Missed you at mtg.! Hope everything’s OK. Will fill you in when you get here. P.S. No rush. Place is dead
.
Wow, ridiculous choice of words. Me: Idiot! You: Forgiving?
Have I told you lately that you’re my favorite person? Like, ever?
I finished reading Paige’s texts, pushed the blankets aside, and sat up—or tried to anyway. My shoulders lifted but my chest wouldn’t budge. My entire torso felt weighted down, like my lungs had been replaced with cinder blocks. I shifted my arms and pressed my elbows into the mattress for support, but my torso rose only an inch or two before falling back again. The effort made my head spin; I closed my eyes as I reached for the water bottle on my nightstand.
I always woke up weaker than when I went to sleep, and so thirsty, I could down a gallon of salt water in less than a minute, but this felt different. Like I might be coming down with the flu or some other real illness. I hadn’t gotten sick since my body’s transformation last summer, and I wondered how it might affect my other physical challenges.
My cell phone message light blinked red. Still drinking, I opened the text folder.
Louis explosions reaching record-breaking decibels. Come soon??? xoxo
I wrote back with one hand.
On my way. –V
I finished the water bottle and waited a few seconds for the liquid to reach my limbs. My chest was still heavy when I tried sitting up again, but the rest of me was strong enough to pull it upright. I took two more water bottles from the small refrigerator Mom had placed in my bathroom and kept fully stocked, and guzzled both before putting on my
I slammed on the brake. The SUV swerved and I used the momentum to spin it around, change direction. I shot past the truck a quarter mile down; it slowed instantly and began to turn.
The speedometer needle hit fifty-five. Sixty. Sixty-five. Keeping one hand clamped on the steering wheel, I reached for my phone. I started to punch in the number I could still dial in my sleep even though I hadn’t called it in months … and then hung up before the last digit.
My instinct was to call Simon. To tell him I might not be okay, because once upon a time, he’d wanted to know. So he could help. He’d taken care of me at the lake house the other day, but that was only because he probably felt like he had no other choice—I was right there, next door. And if we had any chance together, the choice always had to be his. Just like it had been Mom’s.
I tossed the phone on the passenger seat and sped back toward town. The truck caught up as soon as I was slowed by stop signs and the occasional car. I turned down random roads, hoping the lack of direction indicated I was trying to lose them, to throw them off, so that they wouldn’t think to return to the winding street set high above the ocean.
This lasted minutes but felt like hours. I’d just blown past the Winter Harbor Library when red and blue lights flashed in my rearview mirror. They were so bright, I couldn’t see past them—or if the old truck tailed the police cruiser—but I pulled over anyway.
“I’m sorry,” I said, when the officer reached my open window. “I was speeding, I know, and I’m so sorry. But these guys in an old truck followed me from the hardware store and are chasing me all—”
I stopped. What was the point? The officer was male, young, and already smiling. He appeared to be listening, but I knew he didn’t really hear what I was saying. On top of which, besides our cars, the road was empty.
The fishermen, at least for now, were gone.
C HAPTER 7
V! Emergency staff mtg. this a.m. Can you be at restaurant at 9? xo, P
BTW, supershort notice, I know. So sorry!
Missed you at mtg.! Hope everything’s OK. Will fill you in when you get here. P.S. No rush. Place is dead
.
Wow, ridiculous choice of words. Me: Idiot! You: Forgiving?
Have I told you lately that you’re my favorite person? Like, ever?
I finished reading Paige’s texts, pushed the blankets aside, and sat up—or tried to anyway. My shoulders lifted but my chest wouldn’t budge. My entire torso felt weighted down, like my lungs had been replaced with cinder blocks. I shifted my arms and pressed my elbows into the mattress for support, but my torso rose only an inch or two before falling back again. The effort made my head spin; I closed my eyes as I reached for the water bottle on my nightstand.
I always woke up weaker than when I went to sleep, and so thirsty, I could down a gallon of salt water in less than a minute, but this felt different. Like I might be coming down with the flu or some other real illness. I hadn’t gotten sick since my body’s transformation last summer, and I wondered how it might affect my other physical challenges.
My cell phone message light blinked red. Still drinking, I opened the text folder.
Louis explosions reaching record-breaking decibels. Come soon??? xoxo
I wrote back with one hand.
On my way. –V
I finished the water bottle and waited a few seconds for the liquid to reach my limbs. My chest was still heavy when I tried sitting up again, but the rest of me was strong enough to pull it upright. I took two more water bottles from the small refrigerator Mom had placed in my bathroom and kept fully stocked, and guzzled both before putting on my
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