“You’re going to be okay,” Ryan says as the EMT grabs me by the elbow and leads me toward the ambulance. Another EMT joins the group. Two of them wheel Adam away.

“I’m going with him.” Panic claws at my chest as Adam is pulled from me. I turn to find Ryan backing into the shadows.

More lights—red and blue reflect off the brick. The police have arrived.

“You’ll need to come in the ambulance with us,” says the EMT. “We’ll check you out. Get you oxygen. Then I’m sure the police will want to speak with you. You’re the only witness to what happened tonight.”

The EMT must realize Ryan witnessed part of it too. I glance back at Ryan, who backpedals a few more steps. His eyes flash. My heart skips a beat. Then he turns and runs the other way.

The EMT stops me, squeezes my elbow. I focus on the tattoo on his forearm—up close, it’s a thick black circle with angular bars and swirls patterned inside it like a kids’ maze. “My reports will state we found two people in the alley—you and your friend, who was unconscious.” The EMT’s expression is serious, concentrated, stressing the importance of what he’s saying. “That gives you about twenty minutes to get your story straight.”

“He made the call,” I say about Ryan.

“That’s part of what you need to figure out.” After a prolonged pause he asks, “You ready?”

I nod my head. His message is clear. For whatever reason, I need to pretend Ryan wasn’t here tonight. With that in mind, I let the EMT lead me toward the ambulance and Adam. Right now, he’s the only person in the world who matters.

Chapter 23

CHAPTER 23

Wasps. Hundreds of them. Millions. Their buzzing is deafening. They swarm my walls, cramming the corners, crawling over each other in angry hoards. They tear the drywall, hungry to destroy. Devour. Attack. I need to run. But my body is on fire. Flames scorch my throat. My chest. And I can’t escape. The fire. The insects.

My jaw falls open. Someone pours dry ice into my mouth. It’s toxic and smells like plastic. My hands swing, punching, flailing, reaching for someone to help me. But instead of choking me, the vapor slows to a trickle, sliding down my insides and extinguishing the flames. My insides singe, turn to ash, and I sink back into my bed, where I hope to sleep forever.

The noise cuts. The insects stop all at once, and someone is lifting my head. I wake with a gasp, my eyes wrenching open to pitch black except for the little blue orb around my clock. My room. My bed.

A hand brushes my arm. “Lia.”

Ryan. I struggle to make out the hard lines of his silhouette.

“You’re okay.” His voice is thick, muffled.