Page 159 of Resurrection
He doesn't look back. Not at her, not at me.
Then he's gone, the door closing shut, and it's like I've lost him all over again.
Naomi is beside me in an instant. We push the desks back in place just like Adri instructed and return to our hiding spot.
I wait for the crack of gunfire, doubting myself, doubting my abilities. I don't know if I can keep Naomi safe. I don't know if I can keep us safe. The seconds tick by, the silence becoming too thick to breathe.
She doesn't say anything, doesn't look at me. I feel the distance between us grow, the soft echo of Adri's footsteps getting further, softer, until it's gone. Until all that's left is this new void, sharp and tight, an awful, familiar thing. It reminds me of the void I had in my heart all these years, the void where Naomi should have been, where my songs should have been. Instead, I exchanged it all for a spot on stage with The Deviant.
"Nomes," I start, my voice as uncertain as I feel.
She doesn't respond, and I don't know how to fix this.
Then comes another gunshot. My pulse spikes at her sudden gasp.
The next thing I know, the hallway is filled with noise, dozens of footsteps, voices.
"Clear!"
"Clear!"
"Sheriff, can you hear me?"
It sounds like it’s over. It sounds like the end.
"Adri!" She’s on her feet, running to the door. "Ty, help me," she rattles off, and we're moving, frantic and fast, adrenaline kicking in as we shove the desks away to get out of this classroom.
36NAOMI
Long and unforgivinghours stretch in the aftermath of the chaos at the school.
First, we’re approached by the deputies. Ty does all the talking. Then, we’re hustled over to the triage zone outside, where a paramedic looks us over. His verdict is that we’re physically fine, and we’re released.
Someone offers to grab a pair of slippers for me, but I don’t wait. I ask Ty to find out where his car is parked so we can head over to the hospital to check on my brother.
Once we get there, the sterile scent of the waiting room burns in my lungs, but not as much as the waiting itself. Not as much as not knowing if my Adri’s all right.
I'm wearing Ty's jacket, and my dress is wrinkled and torn. His feet are fine—he has his boots. I have nothing. Except him. The shoes are forgotten somewhere in that classroom. They didn’t matter when we were dismantling the barricade or rushing out into the hallway.
There’s a small cut on my right toe, but I’ve just been ignoring it. I grabbed a few Band-Aids from the paramedic earlier. I just haven’t had a chance to apply one.
I’m alternating between sitting and pacing, feeling a little helpless without my phone that I lost at the school.
Ty returns with coffee and a pair of pink fluffy slippers. "It's all they had," he says, pushing them onto my bare feet after I flop into a waiting room chair.
"Thanks."
He wraps his arm around me, pulls me close while I take small sips of thecheap hospital coffee. He’s checking his phone, and I glance at it too. "Is it all over the news?"
"Yeah." He nods. "Most stations and sites already picked it up. Did you want to talk to your mom again?"
"No." I shake my head. "She said she was on her way."
We continue sitting like this—quiet and hopeful.
A deputy approaches us to ask some more questions, but I’m not sure I can say anything that would make sense right now. He offers to speak again at a later time. Ty says that’s probably a better idea.
A little later, a familiar voice cuts through the noise of the room. "Oh my God, Naomi!"
