Page 25 of The Interception
I nod frantically. “Yes, of course. I’m so sorry. Again, really sorry, Ender.”
The medics try to force Ender onto a stretcher, but he won’t have it. He finally relents and allows them to put him in a wheelchair, but he’s not crazy about it. I watch, along with a few veteran cooks, as they wheel him to the ambulance.
“He’ll be okay,” someone says while grasping my elbow. I realize it’s one of the veterans Ender had been talking to at the bonfire. She seems nice enough, and I let her redirect me to my table. “Let’s get through this, and I’ll drive you over to the hospital, okay?”
I nod, barely registering what she said. I want to go now, but if I leave, then it will be considered quitting the competition. Unfortunately, I have to stay to make sure we make the cut and don’t get disqualified. It’s the least I can do after nearly killing my partner.
There’s a bit of a hoopla for fifteen or twenty more minutes while everyone gets themselves together. I’m sure it’s not every day that one of the contestants almost offs her partner, and people are gossiping. I manage to message Sarah Beth, who responds with a calm presentation.
Sarah Beth
On my way to the hospital now. No worries.
No worries? No worries! How can she not be worried about her brother?
I’m so sorry. I didn’t know he had allergies!
Sarah Beth
It’s okay!
How are you not freaking out?
Sarah Beth
We’ve been through this before. If he got his epi and he’s on his way to the hospital, he’s okay.
I’m still a little panicked. He just…froze…then stabbed himself.
Sarah Beth
It can be scary. I’m sorry it happened, but I promise you he’s okay. I’ll message you when I get there with an update.
I try to focus on the competition so Sarah Beth can drive without texting me, but it’s almost impossible. The time was paused when Ender had his allergic reaction emergency, so I have to wait for that to run out first. Then the judges eat and deliberate. Finally, mercifully, they convene at the judges’ table again. Once the votes are cast and updated to the big screen, I’ll be free to go.
Their tap tapping isn’t fast enough for my liking, so I blow out a breath and pace. Suddenly, cheers erupt and I turn around to check the results screen.
We tied for second. We made it into the next round. I’d celebrate, but I need to make sure my partner isn’t turning into a peanut.
With a deep sigh of relief, I hurry to finish cleaning up—which I should have done instead of pacing—and grab Ender’s bag and mine. I have no idea where the hospital is, but I’m sure I can find it with my phone’s GPS.
“Do you want me to take you?” the sweet woman asks, whose name I still don’t know.
“Oh, uh…” I assess myself. Am I clear-headed enough to drive? I have to be, because I can’t ask Ender to drive me back here to get my truck after poisoning him. “I think I’m good, but thank you so much for the offer.”
“Sure, give him my best,” she says and heads back to her table.
I rush to the lot, drop our things in the back seat, and search for the hospital. It’s not too far from the stadium, but I keep my GPS on just to make sure I don’t miss a turn or get stuck in downtown traffic I’m not ready to navigate.
I cannot believe I poisoned my partner. Despite what he said, I know food allergies can be bad enough to kill someone. When I finally reach the hospital and dash in through the emergency room entrance, I find Sarah Beth and Lula waiting patiently. She waves me over.
“Hey, they’re about to release him. He’s completely fine, the doofus. I can’t believe he didn’t tell you about his allergy.” His sister works to occupy her daughter while updating me.
“I feel awful. I had no idea.” I wipe my forehead and find I’m still sweating. Panic and stress will do that, but when Ender walks through the double doors and into the waiting area, I breathe another sigh of relief. “Oh my goodness.”
He spreads his arms wide as I approach and wraps me in them. “I’m fine. Really.”
“I don’t care. Now I’m going to worry that anything I cook will kill you.”
