Page 58 of Distant Shores
“Thank you,” I whispered. “For everything.”
“I didn’t do anything. But… do me a favor?” His gaze raked over me, assessing and still so gentle. “Let me drive you back to the house after this? You look beat, Ireland.”
Another pathetic thump of my heart even as I wantedto refuse. But he’d phrased it like a question, and that did something to me.
Plus, the way my vision was getting spotty and the impending adrenaline crash, lack of sleep, and water—God,when did I last have any?—it would be dumb to refuse.
“Okay.”
He looked surprised for a split second before smiling softly. “Okay.”
We headed out of the cafeteria as a unit, Wilbur and Dad in front. I glanced back as we entered the hallway and frowned. “Where’s your sister?”
Adair tugged his phone from his pocket, unlocked it, then handed it over.
I took it automatically, frowning as I read the messages.
Delly
Let me know when Mr. Sewell is feeling better
That cafeteria food was shockingly good
That was a mind blown emoji, not like, toilet
I’m going to go see if my supervisor is on duty and ask some questions about work
Don’t worry about driving me back, I’m going exploring after this
It was truly incredible how Adeline Jacks had the exact same energy via text that she did in person.
“Wow,” I said, about to hand the phone back, but then it vibrated. “She’s texting you again,” I explained, holding it out to him, but he didn’t take it.
We all stepped into the elevator that had just arrived, and he reached over, his finger hovering above the “3”button. He looked over his shoulder at me and raised his eyebrows with an implied question.
I snorted, then shook my head in answer, and he smiled as he pushed it.
“What’d my sister say?” he asked when the doors closed.
Dad and Wilbur weren’t paying us any attention, both of them looking at the LED floor display above the doors like it was an actual TV.
I looked back down at the phone. “Well, there’s two now. You really want me to read them?”
“Please do.”
“Okay, then. The first says, ‘Please text to confirm that you’ve gotten these and aren’t gonna come looking for me.’”
He nodded.
“Want me to text her back?”
“Nah, I’ll do that when we get to the apartment.”
“All right. The next says, ‘If you do, I won’t help you coordinate your closet.’”
A yawn overtook me as I read that one, extending the word ‘closet.’
Dad looked back at me with a furrowed brow, but then faced forward when the elevator dinged, and the doors opened.
