Page 7 of Miles

I was back to feeling helpless, with nothing to do but wait for things to unfold as they would.

Not a position I enjoyed being in.

Ainsley was frowning when she turned to voice the question which had been bouncing around my brain for hours. “What would make a beautiful girl like that think suicide was the only answer?”

Martina shook her head, as troubled as the rest of us. “I don’t know—but whatever it was, it must have been pretty bad.”

We stepped back when both doors opened, and Phillip wheeled a gurney through the doorway and down the hall.

The girl was under a sheet, her eyes closed, looking for all the world as though she were already dead. Only the sight of a pulse beating under the fine, soft skin of her throat assured me that she was only asleep, which was the best condition for her to be under at that time.

“I’ll take the first shift,” I offered, watching as they moved down the hall.

“I don’t think so,” Gate muttered, standing by my side. “You’re a mess. Bloody, dirty. Why not wash up and get a little rest? They’ll only be settling her in for the time being.”

I glared at him, but not for long. I wasn’t angry. I was helpless.

And he understood that as I searched silently for answers and he squeezed my shoulder in response. “I know. But you’re no good to her half-dead. Take care of yourself. You can always have the next shift.”

I had no option but to agree.

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