Page 37 of Isabella and the Slipper

Chase shifted. “So she might be fine?”

“Yes. It could just be the flu.”

A beeping sounded somewhere in the back recesses of the hospital, and nurses rushed about. He sat back in his chair. It was going to be a long night, he could tell. His phone chimed, and he pulled it out.

Is everything okay? How is your sister?

We’re at the ER. They are running tests.

So scary. I hope she’s all right.

Me too.

Are you okay?

He leaned forward in his chair. No. He wasn’t okay. He was scared spitless.

Wish you were here.

Me too.

Really?

Yes.

Chase tried to ignore the television droning on in the background. If his mystery girl actually did show up at the hospital, he wouldn’t even know what she looked like. It kind of drove him insane.

What color is your hair?

She didn’t text back right away, and he folded his arms across his chest. She wasn’t ever going to reveal who she was. His phone chimed, and he looked at it.

I can’t tell you.

You mean you won’t. You’re very frustrating.

I’m sorry.

He blew out a breath.It’s okay. I shouldn’t pry. I’m sure you’re tired. It’s late. You should get to bed.

Let me know how she’s doing tomorrow, okay?

Okay. Night, Five.

Night.

Isabella stared at her food, unable to get excited about whatever noodle dish had been slopped onto her tray. At least she thought it was noodles. She poked it with her fork.

It didn’t move. That was good.

Savannah slid onto the seat next to her. “They do serve salad, you know.” She picked up a banana and took a bite.

“I’m not a fan of eating leaves.” She scooped up some glop and nibbled a bit. It looked a lot worse than it tasted. She put the forkful in her mouth. “This isn’t bad.”

Savannah shuttered. “Whatever.”

“I think there’s shredded chicken in it.”

“So you said something about Delilah asking you to go to the game tonight. What’s that about?”

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