Page 80 of Campus Fake

The female EMT said something directly to me at one point. I think she was telling me Sam’s vitals were strong.

For a second I thought she was moving—a twitch of her fingers and a shift in her wrist—until I realized it was my hand. I was shaking so hard that her hand was moving with mine.

I’d always been steady. On the ice, in front of my family, in every high-pressure moment of my life. I was the one who was calm and put together. That was who I was. It was the only thing I’d ever been certain about.

But right now I was struggling.

I needed to stay steady for her. I couldn’t fall apart while she needed my strength.

I tightened my grip and forced my hands to stop. I focused on the beeping of the monitor and let the rhythm ground me.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

She was alive. Her heart was beating. I was going to hold on to that until someone told me different.

When we got to the hospital, the back doors opened and then Sam was being wheeled through automatic doors into a hallway that was too bright and too white. I kept pace, her hand in mine, until a nurse stepped in front of me.

“This is as far as you can go, sir.”

“I can’t⁠—”

“We’re going to take her back and get her assessed, okay? But this is as far as you can go until she’s stabilized and we know what we’re dealing with.” Her voice was firm but kind. “Is there someone we can call for you?”

“No.” I could make those calls myself.

She looked at my hands—the cuts clearly unattended to—and then at my face. “We’re going to need to take a look at you too.”

“After.”

“Sir. You can’t do anything for her right now except make sure that you’re okay so you can be there when she wakes up. Let me take a look at those hands and check you out for other injuries.”

I heard her words, but my gaze followed Sam’s body as they pushed the gurney through double doors that closed with a click—an automatic lock for only authorized personnel to bypass.

I stared at those doors. At the small window where I could see the stretcher disappearing around a corner. And then there was nothing to see.

I swallowed thickly as I looked at the nurse and gave her a short nod. “Let me make a call first.”

She went to the nurses’ station, but she kept her eyes on me as I leaned against the wall, pulling out my phone. I sank to the floor, my body giving out on me as emotions pummeled me. I braced my elbows on my knees and closed my eyes, leaning my head back against the wall, trying to find something stable to ground me. Terror was thrumming through me worse than anything I’d ever felt.

This was the kind of fear that lived in your chest and squeezed until you couldn’t tell if you were breathing or not.

I opened my eyes and looked at my phone screen, scrolling to his name and pressing call.

It rang twice.

“Hello?”

“Foster?” My voice broke on his name. “There’s been an accident.”

That was all I got out before I broke down.

I couldn’t lose her.

I’d never survive it.

THIRTY-EIGHT

I’d called Foster because I knew he would rally the troops.