“Hold compressions.”
I sit back, wiping at my face.
“Still asystole. Switch out.”
“No,” I snap.
Austin grabs my arms. “You’re burning out, Jasper. Let us help.”
My throat nearly closes up, but I nod, then drop onto my ass.
A medic takes my place. “Load him. We’re ready to transport.”
I push to my feet, watching as they load him onto a stretcher.
Austin grabs my face, forcing me to look at him. “Go.”
“Go?” I echo.
“With him. Go with him. Keep me updated. Go.”
I nod without thought, then I’m rushing after the medics and climbing into the ambulance with them.
The doors slam closed. We start moving.
They continue compressions. Arlo’s body jerks with each one. His color is better, I think. Or maybe I’m imagining it. Maybe I want it so badly I’m willing to believe anything.
I can’t do this again.
I can’t fuckingdothis again.
I can’t bury two people I love this way. I can’t. My heart hammers and my head swims, Arlo’s body flickering in and out of focus as images of Sarah flash through my mind.
Her small body. The way her hair looked, singed and broken. Her blue lips. The same flat line. The same bone-deep, aching pain in my heart.
“Pause compressions.”
Chapter 11
Jasper—21 years ago
Herlipsareblue.But they’re black too.
I take my phone out of my pocket, my fingers shaking so hard I can barely press the buttons.
“911, what’s your emergency?”
“My sister—” My voice cracks. “I just got home. There’s a fire, and she’s… in the yard.”
“Is she awake?” the operator asks, her voice calm.
I shake my head before remembering I need to talk. “No.”
“Okay.” There’s some clacking of keys, and then, “Is she breathing?”
I glance around, not sure what I’m supposed to be doing. “I—I don’t know.”
“What’s your name?”
