I found Lucinda’s contact details on the secure forms server. And now I’m almost hyperventilating. My group chat has been dinging and I can’t read any more of that right now, so I decide to slip outside for some air, wishing I had my waffle box here.
The library has always been my sanctuary, never a place I’ve felt the need to have a stress smoke. But sending that in, feeling like it definitely doesn’t have enough back-up, along with that fist-sized hole in the wall being in my periphery… everything is screwing with me.
Once I step outside, I’m looking at Malachi sitting on the pavement with his back against the building beside the entrance. He’s reading a Dean Koontz paperback.
He startles when he sees me, going wide-eyed and scrambling for his pocket.
I frown watching him yank his phone out. His body language has me thinking he’s about to call for help.
But he sits there, poised with the phone in hand. Waiting. For what, I don’t know.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Nothin’,” he quickly says, his voice coming out almost soprano.
And he waits, staring at his phone, holding it in a way like he’s about to call someone.
“Hey Mal, can you help us move a couple picnic tables over here?” Misty calls, poking her head around the corner. “Hey, Bailey!”
“Hi,” I reply.
“Can’t,” he says. “In the middle of something.”
“In the middle of what?” she asks.
“Ask someone else,” he answers, annoyed.
Her eyes flit from him to me. “What’s good, Bailey?”
“Not much,” I reply.
“Sorry,” she says softly.
I laugh bitterly, but wave dismissively. “Everything good over there?”
“Great, yeah.” She looks at him again. “Mal, you really can’t help? Might be wise to come over here away from Bailey.”
She looks at me. “Did you see the bruise on his chest?”
“Bruise?”
“He shifted three times yesterday and it’s still there.”
I gasp.
“I’m good here,” Malachi mutters, annoyed, eyes bouncing between me and Misty.
“What’s wrong with you right now?” she asks him.
He rolls his eyes, looking supremely annoyed.
“You guys doing a cookout?” I ask, hearing laughter and smelling someone grilling meat.
“Yeah. Come on over,” she invites.
“Erica is on her way, so…”
“Bring her. We have so much food. It’s a new and wonderful problem to have.”