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It’s just Charlie.There’s no one hiding in the plumbago. God, sleep deprivation is making me slightly insane.

“There you are,” Charlie chirps. “I’ve been looking for you. How’d it go?”

“Not good.” I swipe my hand across my forehead. Sweat clings to my skin, and I scrunch my nose. “I didn’t get the grant.”

“Oh, shit, June. That fucking sucks. Fuck Weasely Weaselton. You okay? You look… not great. Hot, but not in a good way.” Charlie pushes her white-blonde hair back, tying it up with a ponytail holder, pinning me with an appraising look.

“Wow. Thanks.” I snort.

“Sorry, that was rude.” Charlie grins, and it’s full of sympathy. “You seem off. Jumpy.” Her blue eyes narrow, and I can practically see her brain working behind them.

“Just wound up.” I’m not about to tell her I might be paranoid about being followed. I like Charlie, but I think it’s better to keep that little tidbit to myself.

“Sounds like you need a drink. And hey, guess what?” She smirks. “So do I.”

The plumbago bush rustles, and we swivel towards it as a rabbit bounds out, racing off to another clump of bushes.

“Did that sound like a bunny to you?” I ask, clenching the keys tighter.

“It looked like one.” Charlie shrugs, but she stares at the bush for a beat longer than she should, too. “Come on June, first round’s on me. I’ll drive. But we take your truck.”

“Okay, that sounds—” I pause, staring at the plumbago’s non-threatening flowers, despite the massive bumblebees swarming the fragrant blooms. “Let’s get out of here.”

I try not to jog to the truck, but by the time I get there, I’m slightly out of breath.

Better safe than sorry.

With an apologetic grin at Charlie, I toss her the keys and climb into the passenger’s seat. Shucking my heels, I toss them and my work bag into the back seat. I sigh in relief, wiggling my toes as I slip on my sandals.

“That was fast. You must really want that drink.” She laughs, the sound slightly manic.

Is paranoia contagious?

The old Toyota roars to life as Charlie slams it into reverse.

Intosomething.

Something that screams.

“Was that the bunny? Did you hit the bunny?” My voice is a high-pitched squeal. I glance into the side-mirror, my brain not quite catching up to what’s just happened.

White dust partially obscures a man, lying on the ground.

He moans.

“Whoops,” Charlie breathes. But it’s barely audible over my high-pitched screams.

“Oh my god. Oh my god, Charlie. I think you hit someone, oh my god.” I fumble with the button on my seatbelt before the dilapidated thing finally releases.

“That’s not a bunny,” Charlie finally manages, her nose scrunching. “Oops. Shit. Is he okay?”

“Oops? That’s all you have to say?” Cold sweat breaks across my skin, my heart threatening to leap out of my chest. “What the hell, Charlie?”

“Ididask if he was okay. But, yeah, I’ll go check on him. Big yikes.” Charlie jumps out of the car, her huge eyes looking to me one more time before she heads to the back of the car.

“We were barely moving. He has to be okay.Ishe okay?” I scream at her. My legs are shaking so bad, I’m not sure I can get out of the car.

Will insurance cover this? Did I pay my insurance?