Page 39 of Not Her Day to Die (Star-Crossed #2)

“ S unday?” My name rings out in the air, distant and unsettling, but I am in a thick inescapable fog.

In fact, I could be imagining the voice altogether. Ignoring it, I continue to search for the button in this room that turns the air back on, but I am having no luck.

“Sunday?!” My name is more frantic this time and it nearly draws my attention, but I keep my sole focus on the task at hand.

My vision is darkening, my legs are gelatinous.

There are too many thoughts that I could have that would cripple me and there isn’t time for any of that. Instead I focus on one.

I need to turn the air back on.

I need to turn the air back on.

I need to–

My knees finally give out and I have to hold onto the table to keep myself from falling onto Mark’s body.

I need to turn the air back on.

Stretching, I desperately search for anything that would indicate it’s for the air flow, but besides the big red button, I can’t see anything.

I need to turn the air back on.

I need to turn the air back on.

My head is heavy and it lands on my arms as I slide slowly down to the ground. Landing on a cushioned surface .

Why didn’t I want to be down here? It’s so nice and comfortable.

What did I need to do again?

My mind is disjointed, nonsensical. It is an endless game of telephone echoing from one second to the next.

“She’s in here!”

There’s banging and crashing.

“There’s so much blood!”

Sturdy arms wrap around me, cradling me in their warm and familiar embrace.

“Sunday?” The word should mean something, but it doesn’t. It is absurd.

Laughter bubbles up out of my lips, echoes around us.

“It’s not hers. It’s his. Good fucking riddance. We need to get her out of here. The FBI is here. We can’t let her get caught up in the system for his murder. Luna will lead them to this underground prison, to the evidence of all their mother fucking crimes.”

I am moving now, or at least I think I am. It is hard to tell with my clouded sight. Perhaps I’m not moving but just dizzy. Maybe it’s both?

“Can we just pretend we weren’t here? Won’t there be evidence? DNA?”

“There’s too much to sort through down here. And if anything, Jane said she would handle it.”

The voices are more and more distant as they continue on, even though I know they’re right next to me.

Does that even make any sense?

“We just need to leave and figure this out after. She will be okay once she’s outside and rested.”

A familiar hum starts up, it is comforting and chaotic.

Reminds me of a happy time when I was much younger .

My lips lift on their own, and I snuggle further into the arms that hold me.

Nothing is making any sense, but that’s okay, because I know with certainty.

I am safe.