“Use my card.” I stand but keep her body close to mine.
She snickers and pushes away. “I was planning on it.”
Taking a deep breath, my gaze lingers on her for a few seconds. It’s only one night, but will Stefan hear I’ve left? Maybe I should still text one of her siblings to come check on her.
Davies minus my favorite
Mon, Nov 21 at 9:23 AM
Hey I have to go up to San Francisco with my crew for the night. Would you mind checking in on Calypso? I’m worried about leaving her alone after Saturday
Vivi, I know you’re technically on your extended wedding weekend but figured you’d want to be included
*Vivi liked your message*
Vivi
I’ll be home tonight. Lexi and I can go hang out with her tomorrow evening
Asher
I’m free tonight so I’ll head over after The Shack closes
Hudson
I’ve got the morning
Thanks guys
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Calypso
Rubbing sleep out of my eyes, I stretch my limbs across the mattress. Part of me wondered if I’d enjoy the night to myself, not having to share my queen-size bed with anyone larger than a zucchini (I didn’t).
Speaking of Rosie…
My foot swipes across the silk sheets, searching for her little curled up body. Panic jolts me up when I realize she’s not on the bed. I check the time—5:09 a.m.
She’s never up this early, and I’m already flying down the stairs looking for her.
“Oh, God.” I come to a quick halt on the top stair.
Rosie is curled up on the corner of the rug, looking absolutely miserable. The three piles of vomit only emphasize her pathetic expression. Not once in the last three months has Rosie gotten sick. Not even an unfortunate bout of diarrhea. Then Liam leaves foronenight and she pukes multiple times.
I pull out my phone as I drop down and pet her. “Poor girl. It’ll be okay.”
The line doesn’t ring long before Hudson picks up. Asher stopped by last night and told me about Liam’s request to “check in on me.” I figure it has more to do with Stefanthan me, so it’s only mildly annoying. Hudson picked up the morning shift since he wakes as early as I do most days.
“Hey, what’s going on?” His tone is alert like he’s expecting the worst.
Still soothing Rosie, all I have to say is, “I need help,” before Hudson is on his way to my house.
In less than twenty minutes, Hudson is stepping through my front door and assessing the entire situation. I’ve cleaned up the puke and Rosie drank some water, but she isn’t moving a lot and her gums are lighter than usual. At least I think they are? I’d never paid attention to that before, but they aren’t as bright as the photos on Google.
“Has she gotten sick again?” Hudson asks and kneels next to her. His dark brown hair is messy like he just rolled out of bed but his eyes are bright—both the hazel one and the mossy-green one. If Asher and Hudson had the same hair and eye color, they’d be nearly identical, but Hudson has always resembled our father the most. Strong jaw, serious brows, and broad shoulders.
This is one of the few times where I can find comfort in that fact.
