Grayson lifted his head, rose gold hair silky and shimmering against the thundering sky, searching for something.

His eyes landed on me.

He pushed aside his mother and grandfather. Pushed through the small army of people. Until he was before me.

“What are you doing?”

He grabbed me by the waist, ripping me to him, planting a furious breath-and-mind stealing kiss.

“I’m telling her,” he said, breaking our kiss. I blinked, dazed. I’d fisted my hands in his shirt. “This doesn’t change shit, Snitch. Go visit Woodsy or something. But don’t go anywhere. Wait for me.”

He planted another kiss on my lips, then let me go—not before tossing me a bone-melting grin.

He regrouped with the army of suits, and then my eyes connected with Tansy, right before she turned and followed her son into Crowne Hall.

The route felt like an ancient one I hadn’t traveled in years. I ran my fingers along the intricate fleur-de-lis molding until it stopped—the servants’ quarters.

“Uncle?” I called out.

His room was empty.

“You’re not supposed to be down here, Ms. Hale.”

I jumped—Ms. Barn’s baritone voice still able to startle me.

“It’s Story, Ms. Barn. Where is Uncle?” When I turned to face her, her eyes were downcast. I knew the other servants weren’t looking me in the eye, but Ms. Barn?

“Woodson Hale is in the hospital.”

“Back in the hospital?” I looked at his empty room, like it would give me answers. “How long?”

“He wasn’t feeling well this morning and fainted. He was rushed over. That’s all I know.”

“And no one thought to fucking tell me?” Anger rushed out of me, untamed. I rarely yelled, much less at superiors. But what the fuck? Seriously?

“It’s proper protocol to alert a Crowne before the mistress. If you’ll excuse me, Ms. Hale, I have much to attend to.”

“I’m not—”

I broke off, finding the doorway empty.

Hospital. Have to get to the hospital.

Those were the only words in my mind when I left Crowne Hall, and they propelled me to the only hospital within miles of Crowne Point, the one Uncle had been seen at previously. They kept me from collapsing, and they carried my feet through the doors, up to the information desk, until I was face-to-face with a cheerful looking woman.

“I’m looking for Uncle, um”—I shook my head, trying to speak clearly—“I’m looking for my uncle, Woodson Hale. I think he was brought in?”

She smiled and said something I didn’t catch, returning to her computer. It felt slow and languorous. I realized only a minute had passed, but it was too much time.

Finally she told me where to find him, and I dashed off in that direction.