Page 35 of Knot Your Sugar Rush (Starling Grove #2)

Chapter thirty-five

Jamie

I watch her the whole time—not just because she looks beautiful in the light slanting through the broken roof, though she does—but because her scent is shifting in that slow, dangerous way I can’t stop noticing.

Cam is all focus, crouched over the patch of blooms, her sister’s notes spread open beside her like a sacred text.

Theo and I collect the first batch she directs us to, tucking the fragile petals into the tin.

Dane scouts a bit further back, checking the crumbling stone walls for signs they might give.

“I think the best specimens are right in the middle,” she murmurs, gesturing toward the deepest part of the ruin, where a shaft of sunlight turns one cluster into pure gold. “If we can get those, they’ll be perfect for the first batch.”

I follow her gaze. She’s right—they’re flawless. But they’re also wedged between a leaning column and part of the upper wall that looks like it’s been threatening to fall for decades.

Theo’s voice is low. “Might not be worth the risk—”

“I’ll get them,” I say, already stepping forward.

Cam frowns. “Jamie—”

“Trust me,” I tell her, giving what I hope is a reassuring grin. “I’ve got it.”

The floor here is uneven, broken tiles scattered over patches of dirt. I move slowly, testing each step, until I’m kneeling beside that perfect cluster. The scent is heady up close, almost intoxicating—floral, yes, but with an undertone like honey and rain on hot stone. I reach for the shears.

That’s when the sound comes—deep, guttural, like the whole building groans.

“Jamie—move!” Dane’s shout cuts through the air.

I snip the stem anyway. I can’t stop myself. It’s right there in my hand, so perfect, and for a moment nothing else matters. But as I straighten, something gives way above me. Stone grinds against stone, a rain of grit stinging my face.

Then the world tilts.

The leaning column shifts—slow for a heartbeat, then all at once. A section of wall comes with it.

I lunge backward, clutching the tin to my chest. My boot catches on a broken tile, and I go down hard. Dust explodes around me.

Through the haze, I hear Cam scream my name.

The column hits the floor where I was standing with a bone-shaking crash. The tin skitters from my grasp, the petals scattering in the dust like scraps of sunlight, the metal tin rolling away, down into a crack in the floor, out of reach.

“Jamie!” Theo’s voice now, rough with panic.

I cough, dragging myself up onto my hands and knees. The air is thick with powdered stone, stinging my eyes, coating my tongue.

Something else shifts—another beam giving way. Instinct takes over, and I scramble toward the darker corner where the dust is thinner, trying to get out of the collapse’s path.

I hear Dane swear, hear Cam coughing, then another deafening crack as part of the ceiling gives way between us.

And just like that, I can’t see them. I can’t hear them over the ringing in my ears.

I lean back against the wall, forcing my breathing to slow. My heart is still hammering, but I’m alive. For now.

On the other side of the debris, Cam’s voice is raw, desperate. “Jamie? Answer me!”

I open my mouth—

And then more rubble shifts above me, and I brace for the blow.