by Callie Rose
I stepped back out onto the second-floor balcony that overlooked the pool in the yard. My folks never used this balcony, or much of the second floor, really. And they never used the damn pool. So it was a spot that guaranteed some privacy.
While we waited, we bounced around ideas about what Adena’s endgame was, and how she planned to use that shit-for-brains, Preston West, to help her.
I was having a hard time focusing though. I kept pulling my phone out of my pocket and checking the time, anxious as hell for Tal to get here already.
For years, it’d been just the four of us. Me, Mason, Elijah, and Cole. But right now, I couldn’t help feeling like our gathering was incomplete, like we were missing an essential piece.
I hadn’t been lying to Talia—in fact, I’d made it my mission to never do that again. We did miss her. I missed her. And I wanted her here with us.
When my phone rang over an hour later, I perked up and glanced at it quickly, thinking maybe it was Legs wondering where to park or something. It had taken her longer to get here than I’d thought it would, and I’d been debating calling her again to make sure she hadn’t changed her mind about coming.
But it wasn’t her; it was a number I didn’t recognize. I swiped the screen and answered anyway, standing up from the patio chair as I did.
“Yeah?”
There was quiet, then a hiss of static on the other end, and then a deep voice said, “Finn Whittaker?”
I tugged the phone away from my ear for a second and checked the screen again, but the number on the caller ID didn’t mean any more to me than it had two seconds before.
“Yeah, I’m Finn. Who’s this?”
“Philip… Hildebrand.” His voice was low and halting, but my eyebrows shot up as soon as he said the words. “I know your family. And I… I remember you from the hospital, I think. You came… with my granddaughter a few times after my stroke, didn’t you?”
“Yeah. That was me.” I shot a glance over my shoulder at the others from where I stood near the balcony railing. “Uh, sorry, Mr. Hildebrand, but what—?”
“It’s about Talia.”
Those words came out in a rush, and something in his voice shifted—broke—so fast, I felt it in my stomach like a gunshot wound.
Fuck.
No.
“What about her?” I croaked, my grip on the phone tightening so hard my fingers hurt.
“She’s…” His voice broke again. “There’s… been an accident.”
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