Page 44 of Devilry

“Can I speak to her?”

“Not yet,” she squeaks.

“Meghann, are you fucking lying to me about something?”

Silence.

“Meghann.”

“I’m not lying. I told you she had some breaks,” she says defensively.

“But,” I coax, my voice firm, but not angry, knowing that will only force her to shut down.

“Her hip bone is shattered; they’re putting in steel plates.” She sniffles, finally giving in to her worry. “It’s going to be a lot of work.”

Trying to steady my breath, I remind myself to not take my anger out on my sister. She’s doing the best she can.

“Is Trey with you?” I ask, wanting to make sure she’s got support too.

“He’s on his way.”

“Good.” I rub my hand across the nape of my neck. “Let me work out my schedule and I’ll see you as soon as I can.”

“Cole—”

“Don’t,” I warn. “Don’t tell me it’s fine. I’m not going to be able to stay and settle her in, or take her to doctors’ appointments, or the therapy she’s probably going to need. So let me come and see her for myself. See that she really is okay.”

A loud, resigned sigh makes it to my ears. “I want you here too much to argue,” she admits. “Just let me know when you fly in, and either Trey or I can pick you up.”

“Sounds good.”

“Love you, Cole.”

“Love you more.”

Rolling my chair closer to my desk, I pull up a few web pages and start searching for flights. Too frantic to bother searching for the cheapest option, I end up clicking on a flight for tomorrow afternoon. It should give me enough time to tell the dean and organize a temporary replacement. Opening up my desk drawer, I pull out my wallet and flick through it for my credit card. Just as I type in the last of my information, a succession of knocks sounds at my door.

“Come in,” I call out absentmindedly.

Shocked to see Elijah walking back in, I throw my wallet in the drawer and stand on instinct. As if that will somehow close the physical distance between us.

“Is everything okay?” I query.

His lips lift up in a shy, nervous smile. “So much for my quick escape. I left my bag here.”

I look over to where I remember him putting it down, and sure enough it’s still there.

“Oh. Yeah. Of course.” There’s no way to disguise the disappointment in my voice, so I scrub a hand over my face and try to smooth the expression that I know sits there.

I watch him awkwardly make his way through my office to retrieve his belongings. Tongue tied, I’m too overwhelmed with conflicting priorities to formulate anything coherent.

“Are you ok?” he interrupts, his brows pulled together in worry. “I’m sorry if the note…”

“Shit. No.” I raise my hand up to stop him. “It wasn’t that.”

He lowers his gaze to the ground and backs up again, his expressive eyes unable to downplay the unwelcome change between us. “I’m just going to go.”

“My mom was in a car accident,” I blurt out.

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