Page 27 of Love Sick

She sends me a screenshot of her message chain with Mom, wherein my mother has serial-texted my crimes.

Ma:Julian hung up on me

Ma:I don’t think he’s coming for thanksgiving

Ma:I might as well sell his furniture

Ma:Victoria are you there?

Ma:Your brother has abandoned us

Ma:Will you bring eggs when you come later?

Ma:Do you think he has a girlfriend?

Tori:Yes, I’ll bring eggs.

Ma:We should invite his girlfriend

Suppressing my groan, I shove my phone in my white coat pocket. My mother does the typical passive-aggressive thing when she thinks I’ve mistreated her. I get the silent treatment, which is somehow both a relief and a guilt-inducing nightmare.

I’ll have to call her later.

My phone buzzes again and I ignore the text from Rebecca, the internal med resident Grace sicced on me a couple months ago. Rebecca is tenacious as hell and wearing me down. I’m going to end up on an unwanted date with her soon, all thanks to Grace Rose.

One day, I’ll find some terrible form of payback for this.

Spying a small cactus with a spiky red flower propped in the window, I snap a quick picture and send it to Grace, captioned, “Found this. Made me think of you.”

Prickly and red. Describes Grace Rose perfectly.

My senior resident, Sarabeth Steiner—a short, round, pleasant woman—pokes her head into the dictation room. “Hey, Santini, you done on the phone?”

“Yeah.”

“Let’s get lunch.” She straightens her glasses and motions me to follow.

Together in the resident lounge, we grimace at the lunch offering.

“I hate fish Friday,” she says.

I nod. “I’m making a sandwich.”

The room isn’t large, and round tables with mismatched chairs take up most of the space. At the deli station, I bump into Alesha.

“What’s up, Santini?” A big grin shows off her straight teeth as she tucks a few blue strands behind her ear.

I nod toward them. “New hair?”

She shoots me alook. “As if I’d keep the same hair for long.”

My laugh dies in my throat when a shiver chases all the way down my spine. How does my body know? It’s like a sixth sense. A superpower.

I could have gotten super strength or precognition, but no. I got Grace Radar.

I turn as she rounds the corner, staring at a bottle in her hand. “Alesha, they only had chocolate. Is that—” She looks over, and our eyes lock.

Heat tugs deep in my chest.

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