Page 77 of Scornful

"Thank God," Meghan says when she sees us. "Any word?"

Mom shakes her head. "Just that the men are at the scene."

I spot Vail near the door, car keys in hand.

She looks frazzled, which is really unusual for her. She works at the fire department with Gwen.

"I'm getting the kids from school," she announces. "The principal agreed to early release for them, given my reason on why I needed to pull them."

"I'll make sandwiches," Starla says briskly. "We might be here awhile."

Everyone’s moving around, trying to keep busy.

This isn’t the first club emergency we’ve ever had and it won’t be the last.

I help where I can, setting up a play area for the younger kids, fetching water bottles, getting them snacks, and just trying to distract them from what’s actually going on.

Twenty minutes later, Vail returns with a carload of kids.

Ingrid practically falls out of the car, followed by Tindra and Njal—one of Kraken's sons.

"Astrid!" Ingrid rushes to me, and I catch the fear in her eyes before she blinks it away.

"Hey," I murmur, pulling her into a hug.

Neither of us mentions that both our boyfriends could be in danger.

Njal seems oddly unconcerned as he joins the other kids. "Bjorn's gonna be in so much trouble," he laughs. "Told him Mom would find out he was faking sick."

My blood runs cold. "Bjorn stayed home?"

"Yeah, said his stomach hurt." Njal rolls his eyes. "But he was totally faking. Saw him playing video games when I left. I’m sure he wasn’t even in the fuckin’ house, prolly went to go get high with one of his buddies or something."

Oh God. If Bjorn was home when the explosion happened…

I hope he wasn’t home, I hope he’s out smoking pot with some friends.

"Astrid?" Mom touches my arm. "You okay?"

"Yeah," I say automatically, then realize it's true. "Yeah, I am."

She studies my face, and I wonder if she can see the truth there.

That I'm not the same girl who would have been horrified by what’s happened today.

When I was younger, I hated all of this, but now I accept it.

The next hour crawls by.

Information trickles in through phone calls and texts, but it’s not anything good.

The sound of a car engine makes everyone freeze.

Through the window, I see a familiar SUV pulling up to the gate—Kraken's.

"They're here!" someone shouts, and we surge toward the door.

Kraken and Magnolia climb out, looking confused but unharmed.

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