I reached for his arm, but he drew away.
He ducked out the window, slamming it shut behind him.
CHAPTER 25
IT WAS FRIDAY, AND VOTING FOR HOMECOMING ROYALTY was scheduled to take place during lunch. At the moment, I was sitting in health, watching the clock inch toward the dismissal bell. Instead of worrying that hundreds of people I had to spend the next two years of my life with might burst into hysterics upon seeing my name on the ball ot, and in less than ten minutes’ time, I concentrated on Scott.
I needed to find a way to talk him back inside the cave through Cheshvan, and as a precaution, I needed a way to get him to take off the Black Hand’s ring. If that didn’t work, I needed a way to contain him. I vaguely wondered if I could recruit Patch’s help. Surely he knew of several good places to detain a Nephil, but would he trouble himself over Scott? And even if I managed to talk Patch into cooperating, how would I ever earn back Scott’s trust? He’d view it as the ultimate betrayal. I couldn’t even reason with him that it was for his own safety—he’d made it clear last night that he no longer valued his life. I’m sick of hiding. I might as well be dead.
In the middle of my thoughts, the intercom above Miss Jarbowski’s desk buzzed. The secretary’s voice came through, carefully measured.
“Miss Jarbowski? Pardon the interruption. Would you please send Nora Grey to the attendance office?” A touch of sympathy crept into her tone.
Miss Jarbowski tapped her foot impatiently, apparently not appreciating being cut off midsentence. She flicked her hand in my direction. “Take your things, Nora. I don’t think you’ll make it back before the bell.”
I scooped my textbook into my backpack and headed for the door, wondering what this was all about. I knew of only two reasons students were called to the attendance office. For ditching, and for excused absences. As far as I knew, neither applied to me.
At the attendance office, I tugged on the door, and that’s when I saw him. Hank Mill ar sat in the lounge, his shoulders hunched, his expression haggard. His chin was propped on his fist, and his eyes stared blankly ahead.
Reflexively I backed away. But Hank saw me and immediately rose to his feet. The deep sympathy etched on his face wrung my stomach sick.
“What is it?” I found myself stammering.
He avoided looking directly at me. “There’s been an accident.” His words rattled around inside me. My initial thought was, why would I care if Hank had been in an accident? And why had he come all the way to school to tell me?
“Your mom fell down the stairs. She was wearing heels and lost her balance. She has a concussion.”
A tide of panic crashed over me. I said something that might have been no or now. No, this couldn’t be happening. I needed to see my mom now. All of a sudden I regretted every sharp word I’d said to her these past couple of weeks. My worst fears came crawling in from every direction. I’d already lost my dad. If I lost my mom …
“How serious is it?” My voice wobbled. Deep down, I knew I didn’t want to cry in front of Hank. A trivial matter of pride that shattered the moment I pictured my mom’s face. I shut my eyes, trapping the tears.
“When I left the hospital, they couldn’t tell me anything. I came straight here to get you. I’ve already signed you out with the attendance secretary,” Hank explained. “I’ll drive you to the hospital.” He held the door for me, and I mechanically ducked under his arm. I felt my feet carry me down the hall. Outside, the sun was too bright. I wondered if I would remember this day forever. I wondered if I would have reason to look back on it and feel the same intolerable emotions I’d felt upon learning my dad had been murdered—confusion, bitterness, helplessness. Abandonment. I choked, no longer able to hold back a sob.
Hank unlocked his Land Cruiser without a word. He raised his hand once, as if to give my shoulder a consoling squeeze, then made a fist and dropped it.
And that’s when it hit me. Things were looking a little too convenient. Maybe it was my natural aversion to Hank, but it crossed my mind that he could be lying to get me inside his car.
“I want to call the hospital,” I said abruptly. “I want to see if they have an update.” Hank frowned. “We’re on our way there now. In ten minutes, you can talk to her doctor in person.”
“Excuse me if I’m a little worried, but this is my mom we’re talking about,” I said softly, but with unmistakable firmness.
Hank dialed a number on his phone and handed it to me. The hospital’s automated system picked up, asking me to listen carefully to the following options, or stay on the line for an operator. A minute later I was connected with an operator.
“Can you tell me if Blythe Grey was admitted today?” I asked the woman, avoiding Hank’s gaze.
“Yes, we have a Blythe Grey on record.”
I exhaled. Just because Hank hadn’t lied about my mom’s accident didn’t mean he was innocent.
All these years living in the farmhouse, and never once had she fall en down the stairs. “This is her daughter. Can you give me an update on her condition?”
“I can leave a message for her doctor to call you.”
“Thanks,” I said, leaving my cell phone number.
“Any news?” Hank asked.
“How do you know she fell down the stairs?” I quizzed him. “Did you see her fall?”
“We’d arranged to meet for lunch. When she didn’t answer the door, I let myself in. That’s when I found her at the bottom of the stairs.” If he detected any suspicion in my voice, he didn’t show it. If anything, he sounded morose, loosening his tie and wiping sweat off his brow.
“If anything happens to her … ,” he muttered to himself, but didn’t finish the thought. “Should we go?”
Get into the car, a voice inside my head commanded. Just like that, my mind emptied of all suspicion. I could grasp only one thought: I needed to go with Hank.
There was something strange about the voice, but I couldn’t place it through my muddled mind. All my reasoning power seemed to float away, making room for that one continuous order: Get into the car.