Total pages in book: 167
Estimated words: 164838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Resting in the staffroom, trying to ignore the persistent hunger pains growling in my stomach, I turned on my phone and noticed the security camera app was still open.
I went to turn it off, but the feed zoomed in on Sailor sitting in the centre of her wild garden. Illuminated by the hundreds of fairy lights strung in the citrus trees ringing the flower beds, she looked part fairy herself. She held something in her hands, and every now and again, she swiped at her cheeks as if brushing away tears.
My chest grew tight.
I looked past her to the back door of her house, hoping Lily was around and would gather Sailor in a hug or at least offer an ear to share whatever worries were hurting her.
But no one appeared.
She was all alone, in the dark, crying.
And that’s about as much as I can fucking take.
My hands curled around my phone. Anger splintered through me.
Logging out of the camera feed, I pocketed my phone and headed to Colin’s office, where I stored my personal things while on shift. Grabbing my satchel and keys, I powered through the hospital, refusing to make eye contact with anyone. By sheer luck of the universe, I escaped into the muggy night without being dragged into another emergency.
My black Chrysler beeped as I cut across the car park and pressed the key fob. It roared to life as I threw myself inside and burned unprofessionally fast onto the street.
Every part of me tugged to go home. To sneak over the fence and be that shoulder Sailor needed to cry on. Screw all my previous failures with helping psychologically damaged people. She was hurting. She obviously hadn’t reached out to Dr Klep. She hadn’t confided in her best friend. And she ran away from me as her neighbour.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she was hiding her true feelings. And the longer she got away with it and built a false façade, the harder it would be to shatter it.
Not gonna let you spiral, Sailor. Melody would never forgive me.
At the intersection where I usually turned left toward home, I flicked on my indicator and went right. A stupid plan unravelled in my head. A plan that meant I could help her without her knowing it was me. A plan where I became her confessional instead of the guy next door—or the doctor who’d seen her in such a broken state.
Careening into the large department store’s car park, I locked up and headed inside.
It didn’t take long to find what I was after.
I grabbed the first cell phone I came across. Nothing fancy. I just needed it to be able to send and receive messages. As a bonus, it came preloaded with a SIM card and data.
I paid cash.
If I was going to do this, I wanted nothing tying me to an irrational, crazy idea all because I’d made a vow to an old woman and only now decided to honour it.
I strangled my steering wheel the entire trip back; I pulled up outside my house with chaos churning through me. This felt wrong. This felt seedy.
Yet I couldn’t seem to stop myself as I killed the engine and sat there in the night.
Ember Drive was quiet and hushed, people already in bed or preparing to. With suddenly shaking fingers, I tore open the cell phone box, booted up the new device, and put in a bunch of Xs as fake credentials to get it operational.
Scanning the prepaid SIM information, I went to save the number into my phone under her name, but froze.
What the fuck am I doing?
This was shady as hell…wasn’t it?
I mean, I’d bought a burner phone so I could message her without her knowing it was me, all in the idiotic hope that she’d trust a faceless, nameless stranger after being almost beaten to death.
You’re the dumbest fool alive.
Slamming my head back against the headrest, I groaned.
This was a new low.
I’d let every protective, nurturing part of me run wild.
I wasn’t qualified to help Sailor get through this. I had absolutely no business meddling in her affairs, especially hidden behind a wall of invisibility.
And yet…
Removing my glasses, I scrubbed my face. I couldn’t get the image of her crying—alone and in the dark—out of my mind. She looked so small. So lost. If Melody was here, she’d know what to do. She’d boss me around on how best to help. She wouldn’t even need my help because Melody would know exactly what to say to her granddaughter and how to make her heal.
But she’s not here anymore.
Guess you’re doing this then.
Gritting my teeth, I typed the new number into my phone and saved it under LL.
LL for Little Lor.
Her nickname gifted by Rory, her grandfather, and a name I’d often heard dancing on the breeze as he played with her in the back garden.