Page 141 of Requiem
“Jude,” a woman’s voice pulls me back.
My eyes lazily drift up, and then I still. Blood-red hair spills over her shoulders in messy waves that look like they’ve been put through too many hours of travel without sleep. Her eyeliner is still sharp as always, winged perfectly. Her blue eyes lock onto my face with such sheer relief that it almost makes me cry.
“Kami?” I ask, in pure disbelief.
My friend drops down in front of me immediately, her black-painted fingernails digging into my arms as she studies my face. “Oh my god,” she breathes, voice shaking. “Jude, I’ve been texting you nonstop, I thought—I thought something happened—” Her words stumble overeach other.
Behind her is Finnick. His dirty blonde hair is longer now, almost like Micah’s. His brown eyes widen when he sees how awful I look. He slows as he approaches, his attention shifting between Heather and me and then toward the sealed corridors again, where machines are beeping, and doors are shutting and opening and shutting again.
“Where’s Micah?” he asks quietly.
Heather makes a sound beside me that could be a squeak and a whimper.
“Uh, Micah’s in surgery,” I mutter, confused as hell as to why our bandmates are here.
“What?” Kami asks, her brows shooting up. “What happened? Why do you look like this? You have blood and ash on you.”
I just stare at her. There’s so much to tell that I suddenly feel overwhelmed. But before I can even think of a response that makes sense, a taller man steps up behind them. He doesn’t look like he’s reacting to anything at all. He has slicked-back brown hair and deep blue eyes, similar to Kami’s. His presence changes the room’s aura effortlessly.
He takes in the officers first, then the paramedics, hospital staff, and then us.
When I still don’t respond, Kami’s voice lowers. “We followed Micah’s location. He shared it with me a few days ago after he called. He said you needed legal help. And that what’s being said about you isn’t the full story.”
I sniff, my body begging for rest.
Her eyes search mine now. “We landed in Moscow and came straight here.” Kami turns sharply. “Dad—”
“Hey, Jude,” he replies, his gaze landing on me.
“Hey, Mr. Fitzgerald,” I manage.
He exhales slowly. “Who is this?” He motions to Heather beside me.
I finally stand, dragging her up with me. “This is Heather Hardin. She’s my girl’s best best friend.”
He nods to her in acknowledgment. “We need to talk, son. I’ve been in contact with your family, and they said they haven’t heard much from you.”
I swallow hard at the thought of my parents and sister.
“There’s a lot being said about you online,” he continues, his voice slow, like he’s gauging my response. “We have to sort this out. Because you’re in quite a bit of trouble.”
“Is Micah going to be alright?” Kami interrupts softly, her eyes pleading.
My throat bobs. “I don’t know, Kam.”
Tears well up in her eyes immediately, and she takes a step back to process, her hands running through her hair. “Can you tell us what happened?”
“In a little bit, yeah,” I whisper, my gaze darting to the cops.
Heather’s fingers tighten on my sleeve, and I instinctively pull her into a side hug.
“So, do you have some time?” Levi asks quietly. “It seems you’re being watched.”
I nod once at Levi, but before I can actually answer him, movement down the corridor catches my attention. The surgery doors swing open, and every conversation in the waiting area seems to die at once. Across the room, Adela jerks upright from where she’d been curled against Nico, exhaustion instantly replaced with alertness.
A doctor steps through the doors, pulling his surgical mask down as he scans the room. His dark and grey hair is mostly covered, and his blue eyes are gentle and kind. And I know. Before he says a single word, I fucking know. There’s something about the exhaustion on his face that makes my chest cave.
Heather is already moving before anyone else, stumbling forward so quickly that I nearly lose my balance trying to follow her.
