Page 37 of The Destruction You Desire
Crackling from the small speaker on the control panel distracts both of us.
"An engineer is on his way. Hold tight, it shouldn't be too long."
"Hold tight," I mutter after Letty has thanked him. "Is he having a laugh, we're stuck in a metal box."
Letty shakes her head at me, a smile playing on her lips before her expression turns serious once more.
"So, Peyton. I guess we need a plan."
I stare at her for a beat, my chest tightening.
"I love you, Let. You know that, right?"
"Of course I do. We just need Peyton to know the same thing."
* * *
Our class is over by the time we're finally freed from the elevator. Letty heads straight off because she's got work this evening but deciding that it's time to get my life in order, I continue down toward my missed class in the hope of catching the professor to find out what I missed. No matter what happens next, I need all the credits I can get, and failing my classes this semester isn't going to help with that.
I turn the corner toward the auditorium when I collide with someone.
"Shit, I'm—Peyton?" Placing my hands on her shoulders, I push her back slightly until I can see her face.
Tears cascade down her cheeks as she keeps her eyes on the floor.
"What's wrong, P?"
A sob rips up her throat at my question and I pull her into my arms, holding her tight as she falls apart.
Chapter Ten
Peyton
My cell buzzes in myback pocket as I sit and listen to Professor Lincoln. My fingers itch to get it. No one ever calls me unless it's important.
My heart pounds as I think about something being wrong with Kayden. I don't remember seeing a doctor's appointment on the calendar for him this morning but then it's not like I've really been on top of things the past few weeks, I wouldn't be surprised if I've missed something.
Glancing at the clock, I notice there are only ten minutes until the end of class. I convince myself to wait. That it's probably only a sales call.
I tap my pen against my notebook as I count down the seconds as the hands on the clock continue to tick around. I totally miss whatever Professor Lincoln says as my panic begins to build. There’s something in my gut telling me that whoever is calling, bears bad news.
The second the class draws to a close, I run out of the auditorium like my ass is on fire, pulling my cell from my back pocket as I go.
I find two missed calls from an out-of-state number I don't recognize and a voicemail.
I'm about to hit play on the voicemail when it rings again.
"H-hello?" I ask, my heart in my throat.
"Hello, is this Miss Banks?"
"Y-yeah. W-who’s this?"
"My name is Dr. Willis from St. Thomas Hospital in Atlanta. I believe I've been treating your sister."
Oh my God.
I stumble back against the wall as if the rug has just been ripped out from beneath me.
