“Don’t,” I beg before squeezing my eyes shut. “I don’t want to ruin this for you. It’s two more days. I’m sure I can hold down the fort until then.”
“What was the emergency?” Owen demands.
“I-I don’t know. Skye won’t tell me, but she said everything’s fine. She just needs me to come home.”
“Say––”
“Go back inside, Owen. Have a good time. Catch up with Johnson. Enjoy your meeting with Lucian. And I’ll see you later, okay?”
The silence that greets me is bone-chilling, but I know it’s my own doing, and I only have myself to blame.
“I love you, Saylor,” Owen murmurs.
Digging my teeth into my inner cheek, I give in and let a tear slide down my cheek. “Love you too.”
“I’ll be home in two days,” he reminds me.
“Bye, Owen.”
“I’ll see you soon, Say.”
Then, I hang up, hating the way it makes everything feel so damn final.
26
Saylor
“Why the hell are you here?” Skye seethes under her breath as I stifle a yawn and scan the sidewalk full of kids. Each of them is rushing to their classes, anxious to get to their seats before the tardy bell rings.
“What do you mean?” I ask her.
“Aren’t you supposed to be with Owen?”
“There was a change of plans. I took the red-eye.”
“And came straight to the school?” Skye challenges with her arms crossed.
I wave my arm over my black pants, purple sweater, and puffy coat. “Hey, I went home and changed first, thank you very much.”
Unamused, her dainty forefinger wags back and forth, motioning to my face. “Did you consider putting on a little concealer? You look like you’ve been crying.”
“It’s nothing.”
She quirks her brow. “Bull crap. Spill.”
“There’s nothing to spill.”
“Bull crap,” she repeats, stepping closer as the kids continue hurrying into the school. The tardy bell is going to ring any minute. “Tell me.”
“It’s not––”
“Ahh!” a child screams. My neck snaps toward the sound before my hand covers my mouth in shock. Huddled on the ground is Grady. With his arm cradled to his chest, his back and knees curve forward, turning him into a little ball.
He must’ve slipped on the ice.
“Shit,” I curse under my breath, racing toward him as fast as my gray snow boots will carry me.
Nearly slipping on a patch of ice, I catch myself and kneel on the icy pavement next to him. I scan the parking lot, but his grandparents are nowhere to be found. Grady’s cheeks are wet with tears, and his little chest heaves with another sob. One gets caught in my throat as I try to inspect the damage.