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The walls were advancing on me. My fingernails dug painfully into my palms. Words were spinning in my head but not making their way out of my mouth. I’d never felt more helpless in my life. I held out my hand to Kristin to signal as much. She watched me in concern.

“Just take a breath. You’re okay,” she said.

But I felt nauseous. My stomach had always been nervous, and it proved itself once again as I barely made it to the restroom down the hall before throwing up. It felt like the world was in motion even though my vision was clear.

Not myfriend.

I grabbed Kristin’s arm. She’d followed me to the bathroom and we stood at the sink. “Sandra.”

“She’s on her way to the hospital. We called her.”

I gripped the edge of the marble countertop and squeezed. “All while I was on air.” During that short span of time when I was doing my damnedest to smile, but not too much, keep my transitions relevant and seamless, and make sure I was forming a connection with the viewer, my friend was hurt.

Kristin nodded. “It’s one of those freak accidents you hear about from some station you’d never heard of. Not your own.”

“Yeah, but what do I do?” I asked, walking aimlessly through the small space. I wasn’t even sure where to put my hands. This level of idleness was maddening. “Should I go to the hospital? His family is probably gathering there, and I don’t want to be in the way. But I’m not sure where else to be.”

Kristin took both my hands in hers. She met my eyes warmly, the picture of a good leader and friend. “You’re going to stay here with us, his other family, and wait for an update.”

As if the universe had been listening, her phone rang. I listened toher end of the call, which didn’t offer me much. When she closed her eyes and scrunched them together, I knew with everything in me.

“He didn’t make it,” I said.

“No.” She dropped the hand holding the phone to her side. Tears filled her eyes. “They lost him in transport.”

“I can go to the hospital,” I said. The sentence was nonsensical, but those were the only words that came into my brain because everything else had stuttered to a halt. There had to be a rewind button where I could reclaim the spot I’d been in just an hour earlier. I faced the mirror, then away. Then Kristin, then away.

“Skyler.”

I shook my head. No more talking because then it would be legitimate. I felt trapped, and a great big shove against my current reality would surely knock me free of it.

“Look at me.”

I backed away from Kristin until I ran into the far wall of the bathroom. I held a finger up. “No,” I said, as if Kristin was an offending intruder. If I could keep her and the rest of the world away, maybe this moment would evaporate.

She opened her arms as she moved toward me, unwavering. I cowered from her until the moment her arms went around me. The personal contact lifted the spell, and I let myself relax against her, clinging to her even. There were no tears because I couldn’t quite fathom that Ty wasn’t going to walk in the back door of the station from the parking lot, twirling his key ring on his forefinger. “What are we going to do?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” she said. My shoulder was wet, and I realized Kristin was crying. That would be the normal response to losing a friend. But I was all out of normal responses.

“We were going out for noodles this Saturday.” I blinked. “And he’s supposed to start his own production company. What about that?”

She released me. “I want you to go home. We’ll have Lisette cover the ten.”

I nodded, numb and directionless. I walked blindly to the door that would lead me to the hallway and the newsroom I now hated. But something grabbed me by the throat. I paused. My feet didn’t want to go any farther, and I was compelled to turn back. “I’ll do the ten.”

“What? No, no, no. You go home.”

“We’re going to have to report this story, right? We are the news.”

Through her tears, she nodded. She was battling being a leaderand her own feelings, and I needed to do the same. Not only that, it felt like the newsshouldcome from me. I wanted to be the one to speak on his behalf. I was his reporter, and I could hear him now:You do it, bonehead. Don’t be chicken.

“I’m doing it. Okay?”

“Are you sure this is what you want?” Kristin asked, still skeptical.

I nodded, more sure than I had been of anything. It was something I could do for Ty, and I was determined to give him this. “It should be me up there. It’s what’s right.”

“Only if you’re up for it.”