The frame comes down with a crash. Someone screams, and a cloud of dust billows from the area of impact.

I run toward it.

CHAPTER

6

Jane is on his side, boxed in by the frame. He’s propped up on one elbow, free hand patting at the back of his head.

“Jane!” I hop over the crumpled metal and kneel beside him. “Jane? It’s me, love.”

His eyes wheel, searching blankly. A cold panic ripples through me, but his eyes finally focus. “Bennet, what—who hit me?” He shifts to press himself up and gasps, eyelids fluttering.

“Stay put,” I order. “Are you okay?”

“We’re going to be late . . .” He removes his hand from his head to motion toward me, and blood drips from his fingers.

“Whoa!” The chill weight of horror settles on my shoulders. “You’re bleeding.”

I glance at the growing crowd. Onlookers lean over the frame, though for the moment the metal’s serving as a makeshift barrier. A guy in a baseball cap lifts his phone overhead and snaps a selfie with the scene as his backdrop.

“Can someone call 911?” I beg.

The small crowd moves for pockets and purses as if a unit of a hive mind. A man in a suit says, “I’ve got it,” and angles his head toward his phone. “Hello? I have an emergency.”

“Can anyone help?” I plead. “A doctor or a nurse?”

A few people search among the group, eyeing one another expectantly, but no takers. My stomach pitches, and the fear in Jane’s wide eyes emphasizes how out of my depth I am. I place a hand on his shoulder. Blood drips onto my wrist, and I wince. “I’m going to check out the back of your head,” I tell him, my voice far more solid than I actually feel.

His lashes flutter, but he nods.

“Try not to move.” More blood lands on my hand. I brace myself and scoot behind him. With his shaved head, the damage is immediately clear: brown skin, and the pink of torn scalp bordered by bright red blood. At its center, a sliver of sheer white—

Bone.

I gasp, then place my hands to either side of the gash, pressing my thumbs together to close the wound. Blood oozes from the seam.

“Is it bad?” Jane’s voice is high.

“It’ll be fine,” I choke out. I change my position to keep the pressure applied with one hand. The scene around me tips, my vision swimming.

I just saw Jane’s skull.

“Bennet?”

Hopelessness tugs at me. I grit my teeth. Jane needs me to stay calm. “It’s all good, hon. We’ll get you taken care of—”

Jane goes limp, and I gasp, struggling with the dead weight to ease him onto my knees. My heart clenches. Tears stream down either side of his face.

“Dizzy.” His lower lip trembles. “It hurts, Ben.”