Page 86 of Ace

That's the only explanation for getting us all in the same location.

"Come on," he says, wrapping his arm around me and escorting me out the door.

He helps me into the passenger side of my car before making his way around to the driver's side.

"Where do we go?" he asks as he pulls down the driveway.

"I don't know," I answer honestly. "Just get us away from here."

Pulling open the glove box, I grab the stack of napkins from in there and try to get as much of the blood off of me as I can, but it seems like I'm just making even more of a mess. I guess I never really realized that blood smears more than it wipes away, and I feel frantic trying to get it off my skin.

"We have to call the police," I tell him. "Or we can go straight to the police station."

"You look likea murderer covered in blood, Cora," he mutters as he pulls out of the front gate. "We're fleeing the scene of a crime."

"I didn't hurt anyone," I say, my eyes locked on the side of his face as my hands continue to tremble. "I just got home from grocery shopping."

"I know you didn't hurt anyone, but this is a delicate matter."

Confusion clouds my reasoning and I'm a complete mess, but I swear he just sounded like William when he spoke.

"I don't know what to do," he says lifting his hand and running it over his hair. Blood that transferred from me streaks the side of his face, and I somehow realize he's right. What happened and how it looks are two different things. I know that with media coverage and Sadie's death, this is going to look very bad no matter how the police handle the situation which I'm afraid will be make arrests now and work the case later.

"I'll call Eddie," I say, reaching into the back pocket of my jeans and pulling my phone out.

"That's a good idea. He'll know what to do," he says.

"Oh no," I mutter, looking down at my phone.

I tap the screen, but the spider web of broken glass prevents me from doing anything with it.

"It's broken?" he asks, his tone scared and a little manic.

"We can use yours," I say.

"I left mine in my car back at the house," he says, the car decelerating as he pulls to the side.

"What are you doing?"

"We need a phone."

"We can't go back to the house."

"What do we do?" Chris says, his eyes darting all over the place.

"We have to think," I tell him as if just saying it makes it possible with the millions of things running through my head.

I can't seem to fight the chaos in my mind long enough to form a plan.

"I don't know his number," I whisper.

"What?"

"Eddie's number. It's programmed into my phone but I don't have it memorized. We can go to the office. I have an email with his boss's contact information."

"It's business hours, Cora. We can't show up coated in blood."

That makes sense. "We need to go somewhere we can think. We can't just sit on the side of the road."

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