Fitz interjects, clearly sensing my panicked rambling. “What’s going on?”

I don’t want to go with her, I nearly scream. But I can’t understand why I don’t.

“Parker?”

“I’m about to head home. Alone. In your car,” I say to Fitz while looking straight at my mom, who doesn’t do much to release the intense lock of her jaw.

She just turns her head forward.

From behind me, I sense the agent backing off and stepping to the side, where he waits for me to move. I take three big steps quickly, and as soon as there’s enough space, he closes the door and hops into the passenger seat.

As soon as my mother’s motorcade drives away, I let out the last bits of air I’ve been holding onto. Each one makes a sound as it pelts from my mouth.

“Parker?” Fitz’s voice is stern and worried. “Can you give the phone to Agent Samuels?”

I back up slowly toward the building, pressing my body against the stone.

“Parker.”

I shake my head, as if he can hear me say no.

“Parker? Are you⁠—"

“I-I’m here.” I blow out an exhausted breath, and press a hand to my chest. My heart feels like it might burst straight through.

“What happened?”

“I just want to go home.” Like my panic, the tears behind my eyes pool fast and furious. I feel for my keys, but realize they’re in my bag I left with Samuels. “I…I need to find my keys.”

“I don’t want you driving.” Fitz’s voice is rough. “Where is Samuels?”

I look around. “I’m not sure.”

“What do you mean you’re not sure?”

“I don’t know!” Every bit of my energy is occupied by the fight or flight mode this alarm has enveloped me in. Every cell in my body is telling me Run. You’re not safe here. I try to get my mind to take control, because there’s no one to take me. I’m alone.

All that fails when the lights of another SUV pulling into the lot catch my attention.

“Fitz?” I swear, I hear him hold his breath just as I do. But then I let out a sigh of relief when Agent Samuels steps out of the vehicle.

“He’s here. I-I need my keys,” I announce to both of them.

“No, you’re not driving,” Fitz says.

“I’m fine, I⁠—”

“I’m coming,” Fitz promises. “I need an hour, maybe less. I need you to stay put.”

He doesn’t understand I don’t want to stay here for another minute. I can’t. “No,” I whine. “I want to go home, Fitz, please⁠—"