Page 100 of Burning Embers

Unless I imagined all of that…

My head feels like it’s about to explode. I can’t even say for certain if it’s my own tumultuous thoughts or the possibleconcussion. All I know is that I’m exhausted, my body aches but doesn’t hurt, and the world is a confusing and terrifying place.

The doctors tell me I only have a mild concussion—which, considering the circumstances, is a miracle. They release me the very next day.

I change into a pair of clothes Hale grabbed for me—leggings and a sweater that slides down one shoulder—and attempt to turn on my phone for the first time since I was brought to the hospital.

But the screen remains black.

“Shit,” I murmur, realizing my phone is dead.

I shove it into the waistband of my leggings and then hurry out of the bathroom.

Hale’s waiting for me in the hall, and he smiles when he sees me. “Ready to go?”

“Yup.”

So, so ready.

I would rather gouge out my eyes with a rusty spoon than spend another second in that damn hospital room.

The ride home is silent. I keep my cheek pressed against the window as I fight off my growing drowsiness. I wasn’t able to sleep for longer than an hour or two at the hospital, and now it’s catching up with me. My eyelids feel like lead weights, and my body is a clump of cement.

Hale’s phone rings where it’s sitting in the cup holder.

My foster dad’s lips purse as his gaze flicks towards the phone before focusing back on the road.

“Do you need to get that?”

He shakes his head. “Not while I’m driving.”

The phone stops ringing…and then immediately begins again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

When it rings for the seventh time, I quirk an eyebrow and ask, “Do you want me to answer it?”

“I know exactly who’s calling me, and I’m not in the mood to talk to him right now.”

The drive seems to go on forever—made even longer by the incessant ringing of Hale’s phone. I swear I’m going to have nightmares about that ringtone.

“Can you please just turn off my phone?” Hale begs when it rings a-fucking-gain.

Nodding, I grab the phone out of the cup holder and quickly move to turn it off. Just before the screen turns dark, I catch the name of the caller.

Kyle.

Who the heck is Kyle?

Not your business.

I lower the phone and place my hands in my lap.

When we finally arrive at Hale’s house, I’m surprised to see an unfamiliar vehicle in the driveway.

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