Page 5 of Savior
To think my biggest worry this morning were midterms.
I put my hand over the phone after I press the call back button. To Joseph, I say, “I owe you.”
His lips spread in a grin. “Fine by me. You can treat me to lunch tomorrow.”
Before I can say anything else, Joseph sprints back down the sidewalk, passed an open-mouthed Gavin, and into the bookstore.
“Piper? PIPER!” Paige screams in my ear.
“Hey, I meant to text you back—”
Paige makes an impatient sound. “They found her.”
Shaky laughter escapes my throat. God, what a day. “Thank God, is she at the apartment?”
“No—” A sob cuts down the line, and my whole body goes still—as if every cell inside me already knows what she’s about to say but my brain refuses to acknowledge it. When she gathers herself, her voice is no more than a whisper, forcing the words into my ears and making the situation real. “I mean the police found her. S-she’s dead.”
Piper
Idon’t getmuch sleep.
Paige, who is closer to Carly than I am, cries for hours until finally passing out from exhaustion. I don’t dare leave her side, so I spend the sleepless few hours until daybreak on a chair beside her bed in case she wakes up in hysterics. It gives me entirely too much time to think, and by seven I’m contemplating waking her up. I don’t, and it’s another hour of having my own thoughts for company before she wakes.
“Time izit?” Paige sits up, rubbing at her bloodshot eyes.
A yawn escapes me. “About eight.”
She explodes from the bed in a flurry of blankets and shedding clothes. “I’m gonna be late for class.”
“Paige.”
“Why didn’t you wake me?” She shrugs into a hoodie which muffles her voice. “I have a lecture at eight thirty!”
“Paige.”
Her head pokes out of the neck, her hair disheveled, and her face pale against the dark blue material. “We emailed our professors yesterday. We don’t have to go to class today. We’re excused.”
She frowns at me as she ties up her hair in a messy bun. “Why would you—” Then her eyes widen, and she claps a hand over her mouth. Fresh tears sheen her eyes. “Oh my God.”
Even though my legs are weak with exhaustion, I get to my feet and cross the room to pull her into a hug. “We’ll get through this.”
“How?” she whispers. “How do we get through this?”
“Together.”
Her arms come around me then and squeeze tight. “I just don’t understand.”
“I know.” I have to pause around my own tears. “I know. I don’t either.”
When her tears abate, she pulls back and wipes her face. “You look worse than I do and that’s saying something. Did you sleep at all?”
I shake my head and wince at the resulting throbbing. The headache I couldn’t seem to shake pulses angrily behind my eyes. “I couldn’t. I was worried about you.”
Her face softens. “Why don’t you go take a shower, and then it’ll be my turn to take care of you. Maybe take a nap after?”
“A nap sounds like heaven, but we promised we’d go talk to the police today. They want to take our statement.”
She shoves me in the direction of the bathroom. “Fine, take a shower and I’ll grab some coffee. Lots of coffee.”