Page 15 of Beyond Redemption

“I need her to call,” Thomas said, gripping the steering wheel, his knuckles white. “If she’s hiding, calling her could get her killed. Why hasn’t she called?”

“Maybe she’s found a safe way off campus and is on the move. They’re likely already in lockdown, so she could also be doing exactly what she’s supposed to, staying hidden and quiet.” My heart struggled to believe both, but somewhere between those two possibilities, my chest ached.

“Does Marymount have campus alerts?” he asked.

I nodded. “Pushed to students first. Public feed is already lagging.” I opened my text messages, thumb shaking as I typed, and then read what Marisol had already written. “Sol reports multiple down on the green. Unknown shooter location. Unknown number of suspects.” I swallowed. “Unknown number of casualties.”

He changed lanes hard, shot through an opening, and accelerated. “What else did she say?”

“They’ve gotten a few reports that it may be multiple shooters.” My thumb hovered over my notifications. Each update was worse than the last. “They’re locking down in waves.”

“In waves? What the actual fuck does that mean? The whole area should be locked down!” Thomas blew out a long breath, attempting to siphon panic out of his bloodstream. “We should’ve heard from her by now.”

“We don’t know where she was when it started. That means she’s being smart. Sheltering, phone off like we taught her.”

Thomas cut between a truck and a compact that never saw us coming. The cars ahead of us parted just enough for him to surge forward.

I refreshed the campus alert page. “Still says ‘active incident.’ No cleared zones.”

Thomas muttered, “Come on, come on…” under his breath, weaving through traffic as if muscle memory guided the wheel.

My phone buzzed against my palm, and I turned it over to read over the message. Nothing helpful—just another alert, another news push, another useless update that told me everything except what mattered.

“What if she’s hurt?” Thomas asked quietly.

The words hit with a physical sting.

I forced myself to answer calmly. “Then we’ll be there soon to help her.” I watched the lane lines blur, thinking of something pertinent to say that would distract him of the same visual I’d just gotten in my mind. “If she’s hiding, calling us is last on the list. Silence. Barricade. Stay put. We’ve drilled it into her head since she arrived.”

Thomas knew that. He just needed to hear me say it out loud.

The highway exit appeared. He took it too fast, the tires giving a muted protest. We merged onto the main road toward Marymount, which was already clogged with panicked parents and news vans trying to inch in.

Thomas didn’t inch.

He leaned on the horn, cutting down the shoulder until traffic had no choice but to peel away.

“Ask Sol to get a direct contact from someone on scene.”

“Already done, she’s trying.” I scrolled through my phone. Thomas was driving so fast and making so many moves that I kept missing the icons. “She’ll call.”

I pulled up the internal FBI chat, sent a rapid request for on-scene intel, then I dialed the campus emergency hotline but got an automated message drowning in static. Every line was overloaded.

The SUV lurched around a corner, sending me against the door and bracing against the ceiling. We were close enough now that sirens could be heard from every direction.

“Damn it,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck. “I can’t get a real-time feed. Everyone’s scrambling.”

Thomas reached over briefly, his palm warm against my knee. “We’re ten minutes out. Whatever’s happening, we’ll get to her.”

I nodded even though my chest had tightened to the point of pain. “She’s resourceful. You know how she is.”

“Fuck,I need her to call. I need her to call us right now.”

As if summoned, my phone lit up.

Incoming call: LIVVY

My breath caught hard enough that I half-choked.