Page 98 of As They Are
“The ladder . . .” she panted. “It . . . She fell.”
My heart jumped in my throat. “Who fell?”
“Wren.”
My heart dropped. Wren fell?MyWren?
I tore out of the clinic without another thought. It was rare that I dealt with an emergency, but I was trained for it.
But inthisemergency, I couldn’t think of anything else butgetting to her.
I loved the people I shared the town with, but I was able to put up a professional wall to do my job when I needed to. This time, my mind was filled with all the things that could have happened, and I’d never moved faster in my life.
I found her on the ground, thankfully in a grassy area. She was slowly sitting up, eyes on her arm that dripped blood.
Most importantly, she was conscious.
“Wren,” I said, skidding to a stop in front of her. She looked up at me, and her eyes seemed clear. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
I put my hands on her cheeks to get a closer look at her eyes. They were clear and alert.
The cut on her arm was more than likely going to need stitches, and I trailed my gaze over every inch of her to check that it was the only injury.
“What happened?”
“It was an accident, I swear!” Jude was the first one I heard, and I turned to him, glaring.
“What did you do?” I nearly growled.
“I was just trying to talk to her.”
“Next time, don’t use the ladder I’m using,” she snapped.
I was going to break my Hippocratic oath andmurderhim.
“I’m fine,” she said. “Luckily, I fell on my ass.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” I said. “You’re coming with me.”
“What?Now?But I?—”
I didn’t give her a chance to argue. I slid one of my arms behind her back and the other under her knees and hoisted her up. She yelped, arms coming to wrap around my neck.
“I’ve got you.”
“I-I can walk. Ithink.Seriously, I’m fine.”
“Buttercup, I’m gonna lovingly ask you to shut up and let me do my job. Adrenaline is still in your system, and you could easily have injured something.”
Her cheeks went pink, but her mouth closed.
Everyone gave me a wide berth as I took her back to the clinic. After setting her on an exam bench, I immediately locked the door.
“Henry,” she began. “I don’t need?—”
“Stitches first. Hold your arm out. Do you know what cut it?”
