Page 48 of After We Fall

No. No. See, he doesn’t understand. Exhaustion envelops me in a dreamy blanket and promises me that if I simply let go, it will sweep away the pain.

The voice turns stern. “Miss Reid.”

I struggle to focus on the image in my line of sight. The man’s baby blues are kind and alert. Graying hair and distinguished whiskers frame his face.

That’s enough. That’s all I can do. My eyelids float down.

“Miss Reid. Open your eyes, please.”

Several sets of assessing hands move over my wounded body. Various patches of medical supplies are applied to the cut at my eyebrow and to the wound at the back of my head. A foam brace is strapped around my neck. A flat board slides under my body. There’s a sharp prick on the top of my hand. Is that an IV?

Each movement jolts me from my efforts to rest. I just need to close my eyes for a second or two. What can’t they understand about that?

With the board secured in place, I almost succumb to the weary calling of sleep when Finley’s panicked voice fills my ears.

“I don’t—His name is Marcus Skelly. He ran away. I don’t know where he is.” She pauses. “Yes. That’s him. He’s wanted for what?” Another pause. “My Marcus would never do that.”

My eyes pop open and dart around in search of Finley.

“Hold still, please, Miss Reid. We’re securing you to the board.”

I open my mouth to call to Finley, but nothing comes out. Words require too much effort.

Her tone rises, and placating voices answer her. Back and forth, back and forth.

“We just need to bring you in for some questions,” one voice says.

Bring her in where? Are those police officers? Wait. To the station? She didn’t do anything wrong. I mean, I don’t remember what happened. But I know Finley. She didn’t do anything wrong. She wouldn’t have done anything wrong.

“Wait.” I groan. “F-F-Finley.”

“Your friend?” asks one of the paramedics. “The police are taking care of her.”

“Please.” I move my head, and biting pain tells me I can’t slide it against the tight strap over my forehead.

The kind face from before enters my line of sight. “Miss Reid, we need to get you in the ambulance. They’ll take care of your friend.”

“Wait.”

No one responds to my plea. Tears sting my nose.

No. I can’t leave her here. She didn’t do anything wrong. I’m positive that’s true.

On someone’s count, they lift the board with my strapped-on body and place it on a stretcher.

The world tilts.

And I can no longer help Finley.

13

Finley. I have to find Finley. She needs me.

No one in the emergency room seems to comprehend my urgency to get to Finley, including the unsympathetic nurse in front of me whose frigid personality matches the ice-cold hand she just placed on my wrist. “Who can I call on your behalf?” she asks.

“I-I think the police were on the scene. Are there any officers here that I can speak with? Maybe they would be able to update me on my friend.”

Her lips form a thin line. “I’ll check to see if there’s an officer on the floor in a minute. But right now we need to focus on finding an emergency contact for you. Who can I call on your behalf?”