That feeling from earlier?
The wrongness?
It explodes into full-blown dread.
This is what I was waiting for.
The other shoe.
The bubble bursting.
But not like this.
Not like this.
I can’t breathe.
I can’t think.
I can only hear one thing in my head—he said he was coming home.
And I almost told him how I feel—but I chickened out.
The thought hits like a physical blow.
“I have to go,” I say, already moving.
“Larry—” Nathan starts.
“I have to go,” I repeat.
“I’ll drive you.”
I nod.
Atlantic City is less than an hour away.
And if there’s even a chance—any chance at all—that he’s alive?
I’m not waiting for another update to tell me.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
David
I wake up like I’ve been thrown through concrete.
Pain.
Blinding white pain.
A sound in my ears that doesn’t belong to music or engines.
Beeping.
Steady.
Clinical.