Page 72 of Little Did You Know

The line went dead, leaving me alone with the hum of the refrigerator and the weight of secrets. I'd promised Olivia her brother was fine. Now those words sat like ash on my tongue.

My phone lit up again. Anthony's name on the screen sent a fresh surge of adrenaline through my system. I’d forgotten to call him and tell him we found her.

"Hey, Anthony." I held the phone to my ear. "We found her. She's safe."

"Nick." Anthony's voice scraped against my ear like sandpaper. "We found Emmett. You and Olivia need to fly home."

Each heartbeat echoed in my throat. I traced a water ring on the counter with trembling fingers. "Is he..."

"He's not dead." My knees nearly buckled. Anthony's sharp intake of breath warned me before his next words. "But they aren't sure he's going to make it. How quickly can you get here?"

My watch face caught the overhead light as I checked the time. "We can be in the air in thirty minutes."

"Nick." A coffee mug clinked in the background of his call. "You should prepare Olivia for what she's about to walk into." Beyond the kitchen door, Olivia's shadow moved across the floor. "I'll meet you at the airport." The call ended with a soft click that seemed to echo in the empty kitchen.

I froze, my gaze locking on Olivia, who was still sitting on the couch. My heart pounded against my ribs, knowing what I was about to tell her would break her heart.

"Olivia." Her name came out barely above a whisper, but she whirled to face me, shoulders squared, chin lifted—ready for battle. Then her eyes met mine, and the fight drained from her face. She knew. Some part of her already knew.

"What's wrong?" Her hand found the back of the couch, fingers curling into the fabric. When I couldn't speak, she took a step forward. "Nick!"

The space between us felt like miles. "We need to fly home." Each word cost me something. "It's Emmett."

"What happened?" She crossed the room in quick, sharp steps. Her free hand caught my wrist, grip tight enough to leave marks. "Nick, what happened?" The words tumbled out, each one higher pitched than the last, her eyes searching mine for answers I wasn't ready to give.

"I don't know exactly, but he’s hurt, and we need to leave now to catch a plane back home."

Olivia snatched her purse, scattering magazines across the coffee table before rushing out of the house, down the driveway to the car.

"Is Anthony with him?" She practically fell into the passenger seat, her seat belt clicking three times before she got it fastened. Her fingers drummed against her knee—the same nervous rhythm she'd picked up from Emmett as kids.

I gripped the steering wheel, letting the leather bite into my palms. "Yes." The engine roared to life under my touch. "He won't leave him."

I knew I should use the plane ride to New York to tell her the truth, but I didn't know if I could unload everything bad on her all at once and if it even mattered if he died. If he was gone, there was no more threat to her. Would it hurt to let her remember only the good things about her brother?

Chapter Thirty-Three

The New York tarmac shimmered in the brutal afternoon heat as our plane touched down. A black sedan idled at the curb, engine humming—waiting to whisk Nick and me to the hospital. Each mile marker we passed squeezed my chest tighter, until breathing became a conscious effort. Emmett. My brother. The only family I had left.

The hospital doors hissed open, releasing a wave of antiseptic air that caught in my throat. My fingers found the wall, steadying myself. Not Emmett. Not my brother.

The fluorescent lights above me blurred into streaks, the white walls closing in. Nick's hand caught my elbow, his voice reaching me as if through water: "Olivia." The linoleum floor tilted beneath my feet.

Anthony's figure came into focus at the end of the sterile hallway, shoulders hunched under harsh fluorescent lights. Before he could speak, I was already moving toward him.

"Is he—" The question shattered in my throat, tears blurring Anthony's face into a flesh-colored smear.

"He's in pretty bad shape, Olivia." Anthony wouldn't meet my eyes, his shoulders sagging.

"They did an EEG and brain perfusion scan this morning to assess neural activity. The neurology team is reviewing the results now."

"And if there's no activity?"

"You'll need to make decisions about organ donation and life support."

The room started to spin, and my stomach clenched as if he'd just sucker-punched me hard in the gut. "Olivia." Nick sounded so far away even though I was pretty sure he was standing beside me. "You're okay, Olivia." Someone grabbed my elbow, guiding me back and helping me into a chair. How did this happen?

"What happened?" I gripped the arms of the chair, staring up at Anthony.

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