He drops the blade of grass and runs his hand over the other yellowed blades, still firmly rooted in the soil. “I guess what I’m saying is that I hope you’re waiting for me, Lucy. Because this time, I’m taking you through the gate, not the other way around.”
CHAPTER 35 HER
LUCY TAKES A BREATH AND BLOWS IT OUT, HER eyes opening to the bright yellow glare of the infirmary hallway.
No voices come from any of the rooms, and panic seizes her immediately; she’s disappeared again.
How long has it been?
She stands, moving silently toward the closest doorway. When she peeks in the room, she finds Colin asleep on his side. Her relief is a warm, tangible thing. A tangle of tubes dives down underneath the blankets, and only a tuft of hair is visible outside the bundle. She feels like she can finally breathe again, knowing he’s well enough to be here and no longer at the hospital.
Instead of waking him with her cool skin, she sits near his bed and waits. She promises not to go into the lake again. She promises not to let Colin go in either.
It’s okay, she tells herself. This is what she wanted, for Colin to be safe above everything else. She feels stronger with every deep breath, as if the air simply bypasses her lungs and builds into her, cell by cell.
“Excuse me?” The words and voice don’t mix; it sounds like courtesy dripping acid. Lucy looks up to meet the familiar deep brown eyes of Maggie. She can’t imagine the nurse is particularly thrilled to find her here, but the look on her face seems downright angry.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she asks in a hiss, glancing at the bed.
“Waiting for him to wake up.”
Maggie looks to Colin’s huddled figure and then back at Lucy as if she were sitting naked in the chair. “Girl, are you out of your mind? That’s not Colin.”
The chair clatters backward as Lucy stands. “Where is he? I left while he was in the hospital but woke up here. I thought—”
“Left?” the nurse asks in an angry hiss, pulling Lucy toward the door. “As in, stepping out for a moment? As in getting some fresh air? Lucy, Colin left that hospital three weeks ago.”
“Three weeks?” she asks, a lead ball of fear crashing through her insides. Maggie nods and moves to pick up the chart at the foot of the stranger’s bed. Her words click into place in Lucy’s head. “What day is it?”
“It’s a Sunday. And he was just here, came by looking for help finding you. That boy had a look on his face like he was going to search under every rock if he had to.” When she shakes her head, Lucy can tell she thinks his effort is wasted. “As if that’d matter. I told him this would happen, that you’d leave without a trace and he’d be left here, trying to pick up the pieces. Your kind ain’t good for nothing but heartbreak. Don’t want us safe and happy. No, you want us on the edge and broken, taking us somewhere we ain’t got no business going. Let’s hope he’s smarter than I was.” Maggie walks out of the room and toward a back office.
“How long ago?” Lucy asks, following, a wave of anger building deep inside her chest.
“I have things to do,” she says over her shoulder. “If you’ll excuse me.”
This time it’s Lucy who reaches out, grabbing Maggie’s arm to stop her. The woman’s eyes widen, and Lucy can tell right away that something is different. Maggie looks from where Lucy grips her—knuckles white, skin solid and warm—up to meet her gaze. “You leave that boy alone.” There’s anger in her voice, but more than that, there’s fear.
Red clouds the edges of Lucy’s vision, and the air moves in waves around the room. Maggie gasps, reaching up just as a small trickle of blood begins to run from her nose.
“How long ago!” Lucy shouts, startling herself.
Maggie pulls herself free, looking frightened and disoriented. “About . . . about a half hour,” she says, staggering on her feet.
Just as quickly as the rage appeared, it’s gone, and Lucy looks down at her own hands, terrified. She reaches toward Maggie. “I’m sorry,” she begins, wanting to help. “I don’t know—”
“Get away from me,” Maggie says, staggering backward before crumpling to the floor. The color has fled from beneath her dark skin, and the bleeding has increased, now running in scarlet rivulets down the front of her teal uniform. She knocks over a small metal table as she falls, sending it and the items on top tumbling loudly to the floor. It’s loud enough to get the attention of the woman in the hallway. She’s wearing her coat and gloves, as if she’d just walked in the door.
“No, no, no, no, no, no,” Lucy says, shrinking back into the shadows and watching as the woman fumbles with her cell phone while trying to help Maggie lying in a growing puddle of blood.
Nobody even notices Lucy as she stumbles from the room, tripping over a chair in the hallway and sending it skittering across the linoleum.
What’s happening?
What they say about riding a bike is true. With no money for a cab or a phone call, Lucy steals a bike from outside the infirmary and has no problem remembering how to balance and take off. As she crosses the quad, she realizes she doesn’t even know Colin’s cell number. Her hands shake violently where she grips the handlebars, too afraid for a second glance behind her, to even consider what just happened. She has to get to Colin.
Lucy feels almost winded by the time she reaches the dorm. Two state police cars are parked in the lot, and she sees Dot’s car a few spots down, but Lucy doesn’t risk going to the kitchen to find her, to ask if she’s seen him.
Continuing on, she notices the sidewalks seem busier than usual. Students stand together, trading hushed but anxious voices, and Lucy moves around them, leaning the bike against the side of Ethan Hall. She freezes when she spots the campus security guard standing at the door and talking to a teacher she recognizes. It seems impossible, but her guilty mind races, and she can’t help wonder if he’s looking for her. Lucy feels so alive right now—like every cell is pulsing with a heartbeat of its own—that she worries there’s no way she could hope to sneak by. She feels like an illuminated billboard.