The landscape changes again as we approach an unincorporated community outside of Beauty, and after we pass a gas station and a couple of strip malls, a rural hospital comes into view. Lucky pulls into the ER parking entrance, slides the bike into an empty spot near the door, and shuts of the motor while I release my death grip on his waist. I can’t get off fast enough.

“Whoa, now,” he says as I wobble off the bike. My legs feel numb, and he’s gripping my shoulders to help me stay vertical. “Get your sea legs under you before you try to walk.”

“I’m okay,” I tell him, tearing off the helmet.

“Sure?” he says, retrieving my portfolio from his bike’s storage compartment, which I immediately grip to my chest as if it’s a security blanket.

“My pants are hot, and all my bones are still shaking.…”

He nods. “You get used to it.”

“I’m never getting on that thing again.”

“Never say never, Saint-Martin.”

“Oh, I’m saying it. Never.”

He stows his helmet without comment and says, “Come on. Let’s find Evie.”

The hospital is shiny and quiet. From the looks of things, it must have been built recently. The ER waiting room is practically empty, just a scattered few people, and most of them seem to be in the flu/cold group of emergencies, rather than the I-sawed-off-a-finger group. A nice man at the check-in desk looks up Evie’s name in his computer and, after making a phone call and logging our IDs, directs us to the second floor of a different wing.

Honestly, I’m utterly thankful to have Lucky with me. It strikes me that he was in the hospital five years ago when I left Beauty, getting skin grafts and healing from all his burns. For a moment, I worry that Evie’s not the only person who may have a hospital phobia, but when I try to catch his gaze, he seems to be okay.

Maybe he’s not thinking about it. Maybe it’s just my guilt.

After walking in circles, we finally find the right area; however, a nurse has to question two other staff members to track down where they’ve put Evie.

“I thought she wasn’t hurt?” I tell the nurse.

“She’s fine. Her friend is another story. Who are you? I thought she said she was calling her guardian to pick her up.”

Of course my mom is MIA.… Strangle, strangle, strangle. “I’m her cousin.”

“All right. Let me get you to her.” The nurse leads us to a private hospital room and turns to Lucky. “You all know one another, right? Family and close friends only.”

Lucky shoots me a questioning look, asking me with his eyes if I want him to bail.

I really don’t want him to leave. “We’re friends,” I say, hoping he’ll stay.