Page 134 of Never Alone
"Cole."
I'd never heard her voice do that.
"Cole, she dropped Noah here yesterday afternoon. Around four. She said she had an errand. She didn't come in. She didn't?—"
I didn't say anything.
"She didn't come back, Cole."
"Okay."
"I thought she was going to the hospital. I thought?—"
"I know. Jamie. It's okay."
"Cole—"
"I have to go."
I hung up.
I sat up.
The ribs did a thing. The kidney did a thing. The shoulder did a thing.
I sat up anyway.
The clothes from yesterday were in a plastic bag in the cabinet under the sink. Gravel-dusted at the knees. Blood at the collar. They'd cut my shirt open down the front; somebody had taped it back together with two strips of medical tape. I was going to put it on anyway.
I got the gown off with my good hand. I got the shirt on. The arm in the sling stayed in the sling. The taping at the front held. The buttons didn't. I left them.
I was working on the laces of one boot, sitting on the edge of the bed with my forehead pressed against the mattress because bending was a different kind of wrong than I'd been expecting, when the door opened.
"Cole."
Quinn.
She had a coffee in one hand, and she was across the room before the door had finished swinging.
"Cole. What are you doing?"
"Going home."
"Get back in the bed."
"Tessa's gone."
Her face did the thing it had done in the gravel.
She set the coffee on the side table. Hesitantly.
"Gone where?"
"I don't know. She left around three. Dropped Noah off at Jamie's yesterday. Hasn't come back. Phone is off."
Quinn didn't say anything for a beat.
Then: "I'm driving."
