I realize I may be overreacting, but Ezra doesn’t seem to mind. I guess with everything else that’s been going on, my excessive worry is not completely unfounded.
“Oh, yeah. Sure thing,” he says, then chugs his drink in my ear.
“I appreciate you. I texted Stu first but he totally blew me off.”
“He’s a dipshit,” he replies. I can hear him rustling around. “I’ll go on over now and call you as soon as I’m with her, but I’m sure everything is fine. Don’t stress.”
I breathe out a sigh of relief, hang up the phone, and drag myself out of the car.
Walking through the sliding doors of the hospital, my heart races. The front desk feels like a barrier between me and the answers I need. I step up to it, trying to keep my voice steady.
“Hi, I’m looking for my sister, Anna Hollis—she was brought in this morning after an overdose.”
The receptionist, a woman in her forties, gives me a brief, polite smile before typing on her keyboard. She frowns slightly as she scans the screen, then looks up at me. “I’m sorry, but we don’t have anyone by that name admitted here.”
I blink, sure I misheard her. “No, there must be a mistake. I got a text from this hospital saying she overdosed and was brought in earlier today.”
Her expression softens, but the confusion in her eyes remains. “I understand, but she’s not in our system. Let me check again.”
I stand there, heart pounding, as she taps a few more keys, scrolling through something I can’t see. The moments stretch on painfully until she shakes her head. “I’m really sorry, but there’s no record of anyone by that name being treated or admitted here today.”
I feel like I’ve been hit in the chest. The ground feels unsteady beneath me as I struggle to comprehend what she’s saying. “So… she was never here?”
The receptionist gives me an apologetic look. “It seems that way. We don’t have any record of her.”
I’m at a loss. The text—it wasn’t a mistake. I know it came from the hospital. Did someone give me the wrong information? Was it some kind of cruel prank?
I step away from the desk, the receptionist's voice fading as she says something else I barely hear. I pull out my phone, checking the message again. The hospital’s number is right there. It’s real, but it doesn’t make sense.
I dial the number from the message. The line rings twice before a voice answers. “St. Anthony’s Hospital, how can I help you?”
“Hi, I got a text this morning saying my sister—Anna Hollis—overdosed and was brought in. I’m at the hospital now, but there’s no record of her being here.” My voice is tight, barely holding together. “I just needed to check the number the text came from.”
There’s a pause, followed by some typing. “I’m sorry, but I don’t have any record of an Anna being admitted today. Are you sure it was this hospital?”
I clench my teeth, trying to stay calm. “Yes, I’m sure. The message came from this number.”
Another pause. “I’m really sorry, sir. I don’t know what happened, but there’s no information here about your sister. Not to mention that the hospital wouldn’t send atextabout something like this.”
I hang up, the weight of confusion and frustration pressing down on me. She was never here. My stomach churns as I stand there in the middle of the hospital, feeling like an idiot. What the hell is going on?
I glance down at my phone, hoping for some kind of response from Quinn or Ezra, but there’s still nothing.
30
I’VE NEVER WISHED MORE THAT I COULD PUKE ON SOMEONE
QUINN
I wakeminutes or maybe hours later, confused.
At first, I think I’m in the dim light of my dorm room, but the last several days come flooding back to me and the hot, sticky liquid running down my arm and dripping off the ends of my fingertips tells me that wherever I am, the scenario is not a good one.
I can hear Kronk barking, losing his fucking mind somewhere in the distance. I must still be at Jack’s. A wave of relief washes over me knowing that he is safe.
Or at least seems to be.
“You should be glad I took it out while you were still unconscious.” The blurry form of Stu comes into view. He’s standing directly in front of me, and I can barely make out his features. Apparently whatever he drugged me with was some strong shit. “I think I would’ve liked watching you squirm under my knife.”
