Nightfall (Devil's Night 4)

It was definitely a human bone. A femur. I knew it the moment I picked it up.

I’d dropped it just as quickly.

I didn’t know if an animal got him or the elements, and I didn’t ask.

And then I remembered something else he’d said. His kit. Bandages.

Then there was all that stuff in his room. Biology. Drawings. Notes.

“You’re a doctor?” I said, finally realizing.

“When I want to be.”

“How long have you been here?”

He met my gaze. “Two years, one month, fifteen days.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. The idea of Will being here that long hurt.

“Use your head,” he told me, carrying me into his room as if I weighed nothing. “You’ll need it to stay alive, because this is not how we end, Emory Scott.”

Despite myself, I almost smiled.

But I didn’t.

No. This wasn’t how I ended.

I had twenty-nine days.

Emory

Nine Years Ago

I lifted one book after another, loose papers flying everywhere as I searched for my Lolita packet at the bottom of my locker. Old math papers, tattered and crinkled, blanketed the floor, and I held out book after book, fanning each one for any sign of my missing homework.

Shit.

That packet was over a week late. Where the hell did it go?

Tears stung my eyes. I couldn’t believe I was about to cry over this. I should’ve just done it when it was due instead of dragging my feet. This is what I get.

I knew I lost shit when that asshole Anderson knocked my books out of my hands yet again the day before yesterday. Everything scattered over the floor of the crowded hallway, passing students kicking my crap as they went.

I’d lost it. Townsend wasn’t going to give me another one.

Sifting through the mess, I quickly gathered up the old papers that had spilled onto the floor and stuffed them back into my locker, rising off my knees and pulling out the books on the shelf. I searched those pages as well, one last-ditch effort for hope that it was still somewhere.

“You okay?”

I glanced over my shoulder, seeing Elle walking toward me with a backpack on one arm and a trumpet case in another.

“Fine,” I said, turning my attention back to my search.

“Well, everyone is about gone,” she said. “It’s getting dark.”

She kept walking, but spun around to watch me as she spoke.

“Need a ride?” she asked.