Page 56 of Mortify

We work in unison, years of partnership making words almost unnecessary.

Blood pressure's through the roof.

Pulse irregular.

EKG shows what I suspected—he's having a massive MI.

"Harold, you're having a heart attack," I tell him, keeping my voice calm even as I prepare the medications. "We're going to give you some medicine to help with the pain and get you to the hospital quickly."

His wife hovers nearby, wringing her hands. "Is he going to be okay?"

"We're doing everything we can," Vail assures her while I push the morphine. "You can ride with us to the hospital."

Loading him takes practiced coordination.

I'm securing the stretcher when that feeling hits—like ice water down my spine.

Someone's watching.

I scan the street, the gathered neighbors, the parked cars.

Nothing obvious, but the sensation persists.

That crawling certainty that eyes are tracking my every move.

"Everly?" Vail's voice cuts through. "You good?"

"Yeah." I force myself to focus. "Let's go."

I drive while Vail manages Harold's care in the back.

But I can't shake the feeling.

Check the mirrors more than necessary.

Take a different route than usual.

Paranoid, I tell myself.You're just being paranoid.

But after months of Dylan's surveillance, paranoia feels like self-preservation.

We get Harold to the ER, give our report to the receiving team.

He's stable enough for the cath lab, which means we probably saved his life.

Should feel good about that.

Instead, I'm still looking over my shoulder.

"Seriously, what's wrong?" Vail asks once we're back in the ambulance. "You've been jumpy all morning."

"Just felt like someone was watching at the scene," I admit. "Probably nothing."

Her expression hardens. "Dylan?"

"I don't know. Maybe." I start the engine, eager to get back to the station. "He's called from twelve different numbers this week. Left some... interesting voicemails."

"Have you told Regnor?"

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