Page 8 of Midnight Between Us
Cassian sinks to the sidewalk, taking Del with him, still holding her like maybe if he’s strong enough, she won’t completely unravel.
I turn away, press the palm of my hand to my mouth.My throat burns, not just from the smoke but from everything—this helplessness, this ache that won’t go away.I don’t want to cry.I don’t want to feel any of this.
But something inside me snaps.
I decide to help instead of watching, giving a hand to the paramedics.By the time the flames are out, The Honey Drop is nothing but a scorched skeleton, steaming and blackened, barely recognizable.Her sign is half-melted, the lettering warped like it was trying to hold on but couldn’t.
People stand around with their phones out, filming the aftermath as if it were a true-crime episode, not someone’s entire life turned to ash.I want to scream at them, knock the phones out of their hands.But I don’t.I’m too tired, too covered in smoke and heartbreak to pick a fight with strangers.
I’ve got burn cream smeared up my arms from helping a volunteer whose fingers blistered open trying to haul buckets of water before the firefighters arrived.My clothes reek of singed cotton and sugar.My throat tastes like grief.
“You okay, Doc?”someone asks behind me.
I don’t turn to look.Just nod.A motion that feels disconnected, like a puppet on its last thread.
Then I hear Malerick’s voice crackle through the walkie clipped to someone’s shoulder.“We’ve got something off Route Seven.Wreck.Might need medical—send Simone.”
My head lifts slowly.I blink once.“Now?”
Footsteps scuff behind me.Mal appears a second later, weaving through the haze, sweat, and noise.His uniform’s streaked with soot, his brow furrowed, and there’s a tension in his jaw I don’t usually see—like something about this call already feels wrong.
He nods.“Yeah.Car looks like it got twisted into the trees—like it was dropped from the sky.It’s bad.Just one person inside.They’re trying to get him out, but they’ll need someone to stabilize him.”
“The driver?”I ask.
Mal shakes his head.“There’s no driver.But they found someone locked in the trunk.”
I go still.
My stomach flips.
“In the trunk?”I repeat, my voice catching.
“Yeah.”Mal’s mouth tightens.“Alive, but barely.They’re figuring out how to get him out because it’s an old car with twisted metal.Go in the ambulance.”
I glance back at where Del used to be huddled into Cassian’s chest, face buried, hands shaking like she doesn’t know how to stop.However, the spot is empty now.
“Where is she?”I ask.“I can’t just leave her.”
It feels wrong to leave.Like I’m abandoning her.
“Don’t worry, Cass took her home.We got her,” Mal says, reading the hesitation all over my face.“Go.”
I nod once and walk toward the ambulance, even though every step feels as if I’m walking through concrete.My heart’s still back there, curled beside Del on the sidewalk, wishing this was all some horrible dream that we could wake up from.
But it’s not.And something tells me it’s only going to get worse.
ChapterTwo
Simone
When I arrive,the first thing I see is the fire truck.
It’s not ours.Nope.It’s Larkspur Knoll’s emergency services who are attending.Which means the Birchwood Springs crew is still tied up at The Honey Drop.Figures.It feels like our small town has been cursed.I don’t want to believe on any of that since I’m a woman of science, but ...what the fuck is happening to our small town?
We should ask more questions about Del’s dad.Maybe his ghost is angry or ...okay, it’s too farfetched, but I don’t believe in coincidences.Things have been happening for a while now.I bet that if I start a crime board I could pinpoint when this started and maybe even who to blame.
The second thing I notice is the air—how it stills the moment I step out of the ambulance.Not silent.I can still hear the wind catching dry leaves, the distant wail of a second siren, and someone yelling something urgent up the ridge.But all of it sounds ...distant.
