Page 64 of Crashing Into Us

As her silhouette got farther and farther away, he couldn’t move. His cell phone began to ring, vibrating in his pocket. He tore his eyes from her, breaking his view for a split second as Paula’s name pulsed across the screen. At first, he wasn’t going to answer.

He hadn’t called her back yet and didn’t want to face the Hamby drama, not now of all times. But he pressed the answer button, deciding to face the music.

“Hey sis. How are things?” Kayden breathed, his eyes finding Lana again, just as she rounded a corner.

Paula’s voice was a high-pitched, frantic, unintelligible torrent in his ear. The room began to spin, his blood turning to ice water as he processed the words he finally managed to catch.

“Okay,” was all he could say, his voice a hollow croak. The phone went silent. He scrolled, his thumb shaking, and pressed Lana’s name. It went straight to voicemail.Her phone must be off. She's in the security line.

His instincts, honed by months of trauma, kicked in. He shoved the phone into his pocket and sprinted through theairport lobby, trying to catch her before she entered the international gateway. If he couldn’t catch her, his domestic ticket wouldn’t give him access. He’d be too late.

“Lana!” Kayden yelled, his voice raw. He whizzed by people, dodging carts and children. Some looked up, worried—in the state the world was in, a man running and yelling in an airport was a terrifying sight. Lana didn’t hear him. She was almost at the checkpoint. He increased his speed, his bad arm throbbing, as a security guard near the queue sat up in his chair, his eyes narrowed.

“Just late for my flight!” Kayden called out to the guard as he passed him.

“Lana!” he yelled again, just as the security officer, now on his feet, started running behind him.

This time, she stopped. She turned, her face a mask of confusion, just in time to witness the security guard tackle Kayden from the side, driving him hard onto the unforgiving terrazzo floor.

“It’s okay!” Kayden pleaded, the air knocked from his lungs as the guard grabbed him by the arm.

“What are you doing, Sir?!” the officer commanded, reaching for his cuffs as more TSA officers began to arrive.

As Lana ran back, she looked from Kayden’s desperate face to the officers, her own expression visibly confused and embarrassed by the scene.

“Let him go! What are you doing?!” Lana yelled.

The officers, seeing her, finally released him. Kayden stood, his chest heaving, his face a mask of such utter devastation that Lana’s own blood ran cold. He straightened his shirt, not looking at the officers, only at her. His voice was a hollow whisper, devoid of all life.

“Aunt Mae... she... she’s dead.”