Page 57 of Sebastian

“So, this Mafia Boss guy is paying off the agencies to supply kids to his pedophile ring?”

“Looks that way.” Frankie shrugged. “At least, that’s what it seemed like when I was eavesdropping on their meeting.”

While we spoke, the argument between Damien and Gabe became more heated until Frankie had to intervene. Technically, Gabe never yelled, but he did seem twitchy and on edge compared to his usual stern appearance.

Damien, however, was obviously struggling to control himself. He excused himself from the room by claiming he was going to check on Sebastian’s situation.

I groaned and lay back against the pillows, pulling a blanket over my face to block out the world. It was too much. I wanted to go back to the moment right before the explosion, when everything had been looking up.

That had only been a few hours ago.

How could so much change so quickly?

Gabe eventually also left the room, though he stayed just outside the door to keep watch over things. If there was a traitor among the FBI, which was looking more and more likely, I doubted Gabe was involved. He’d literally lived with us for weeks. If he wanted to harm us, he wouldn’t have had to go so far as blowing up the apartment. He could have simply shot us in our sleep.

It was a morbid thought. During my time as a nurse and a paramedic, I’d faced death and injury almost every day, but never my own. Before this whole incident, the closest I’d ever come to mortal danger was when I fell out of a tree as a kid because I wanted to befriend the squirrels that lived in its branches.

That was a much happier thought than worrying over Sebastian’s surgery. I refused to acknowledge the doctor’s concerns. Sebastian would walk again. Even if I had to spend the next several years personally nursing him back to health, he was going to walk again. Then, we’d go to a park and feed the squirrels, and I’d tell him about the time I climbed to the top of a tall tree because I wanted to be a Disney princess. Every Disney princess has an animal companion they can talk to, so I thought the squirrels could be mine.

He would definitely find the story funny.

When Frankie and I were the only ones left in the room, we passed the time playing cards. With only two people, the games we could play were limited, but it kept us occupied.

I’d just won my third hand of go-fish when someone new walked through the door. There was barely enough time for me to recognize my sister before she rushed over to me, grabbing me in a hug and knocking the cards to the floor.

“Newton, oh my God,” she said as she squeezed me. “I got a call from the hospital saying you were in some sort of accident. What happened?”

Accident?

Really?

Was that what the hospital was calling it?

“Um, hey, Rosalind.” I awkwardly patted her back. Our lunch meeting hadn’t ended on a positive note, and I had no idea where the two of us stood with each other. “I’m okay. Just a bit of a concussion which should clear up.”

She held me out at arm’s length to get a better look at me, eyeing me up and down. “Okay? You’re black and blue all over.”

“It’s not that bad.”

Maybe it was. There hadn’t been a chance for me to look in a mirror yet, but no matter how bad I looked, Sebastian must be in a worse state. It felt selfish to complain about a few bumps and bruises.

My sister finally noticed Frankie sitting beside me and held out her hand like it was a business meeting.

“Hi, I’m Rosalind Clary. You must be Frankie Zolnai, my brother’s roommate.”

It was an oddly formal introduction, but at least she’d gotten his name right.

Frankie accepted her hand but didn’t bother replying as she was already talking again.

“Thanks so much for taking care of my brother. Are you the one who brought him in?”

I shouldn’t have been surprised when Damien chose that moment to return. The hospital may as well have installed a revolving door with how often people kept coming and going from my room.

The minute I saw Damien, my sister was immediately forgotten. “Any news?”

Damien’s expression was neither happy nor sad, but his hands toyed a pair of sunglasses, betraying the man’s agitation. “Yeah. He’s out of surgery, though he’s still unconscious. They won’t know how well it went until he wakes up.”

“Can I see him?”

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