The only person whose call is allowed to bypass my ‘do not disturb’ is Saffron—and she’d only wake me at this time of night if something was seriously wrong.
Broken sobs echo through the speaker as soon as I answer, the sound digging beneath my skin and tightening a clawed fist around my heart.
“Saf? What’s wrong, babe?” When she doesn’t answer, I throw the covers off and jump out of bed, struggling to gain my bearings as I look around the darkened room in search of my shoes. “Saffron, talk to me. What happened?”
More broken sobs crackle through the speaker, and I pull the phone from my ear to pull up Saffron’s location tracker. She’s nowhere near her apartment, and when I zoom in on the little red dot to scan the area, my heart drops into my stomach. Itlooks like she’s sitting on the sidewalk beneath an overpass—but how or why she’s there, I have no idea. All I know is my best friend needs me.
“I’m on my way, Saf. Hold on.”
Shoving my feet into a random pair of shoes, I snag my keys off the counter and rush out of my apartment, not bothering to lock the door behind me. As I take the stairs down, I check her location on my phone, noting she’s only about a mile from my apartment.
I could try to call a car to take me to her, but at this time of night, I’d get there faster by running—so that’s what I do. I look like an absolute madman racing down the sidewalk dressed in my rubber-duck pajamas and mismatched shoes, and I receive quite a few strange looks from people I pass by.
The temperature has dipped well below the thirties, and though my blood is pumping hard enough to keep me warm, the cold night air still manages to sneak beneath my thin layer of clothing, chilling me to the bone. By the time I near Saffron’s location, my nose feels like it’s going to fall off, my fingers are numbed, and I can’t stop the chattering of my teeth.
Breathing hard, I come to a stop beneath the overpass—the exact spot the GPS was last able to locate Saffron’s phone. Only, she’s not here.
“Saffron!” I frantically search the shadows for any sign of her. “Saffron, where are you?”
I look down, despair hardening in my gut as I realize that the call has dropped. I try to dial her back, but it does straight to voicemail, leaving me with a bitter taste in my mouth and a heart full of dread.
“Saf!” I scream at the top of my lungs. “Saf!”
I’m about to lose it when a small noise breaks out to my right. I whip my head, noting a row of tall bushes lining the side of the road, obscuring my sight. I clamp my mouth shut, listeningintently—and then I hear it again. A small moan, and a rustle of leaves.
Saffron.
My vision tunnels as I run toward the bushes, tearing through the bramble like a wild animal in search of my friend. “Saffron!” I yell. “I’m here, Saffron! I’m here!”
“Grace…”
My heart stops as Saffron’s weak voice punctuates the night air, and I fight harder to make it to her. “Hold on, babe! I’m almost there!”
I emerge on the other side of the bushes, so ready to find Saffron I hadn’t prepared myself forwhatI would find. My knees go weak at the sight of the thick puddle of blood surrounding her naked body. Her skin is covered in wounds—some deep and oozing, others shallow—and all of them are crusted with a thick layer of mud.
Saffron’s breathing comes in wet, labored gasps, all of her effort going into staying alive, to keep her heart pumping for one more beat. One look at her, and I know—she will die if she doesn’t get help soon.
My fingers shake as I dial the number for the police, only for my hand to drop back to my side with a defeated sob. The police won’t come in time—if they come at all. No one is going to save her. No one cares. No one but me.
Sucking in a deep breath, I crouch next to Saffron’s body, my bare knees pressing into the cool, blood-soaked dirt. “I’m here, Saf. You’re safe.”
A weak moan falls from Saffron’s bloodied lips, and bile rises in my throat at the sight of her. Whoever did this didn’t just cut her up—they carved into her face. A great majority of the blood is stemming from a deep gash on her face—so deep and gnarly that I can’t yet tell if her left eye is still intact. My stomach flips,threatening to expel its contents, but I ball my fists and fight against the feelings warring inside me.
Shove. It. Down.
I take a deep breath in through my nose, putting my emotions in a box and locking it tight. Only when I’ml absolutely calm do I focus on the situation at hand, racking my brain for any medical knowledge I’ve picked up over the years.
She’s still breathing—albeit weakly—and her heart is beating, so I don’t need to try CPR.But the blood…If I don’t stop it soon, shewillcease to breathe. And I don’t have anything on me but my thin pajamas and keys.
Throwing modesty to the wind, I rip off my pajama top, baring my breasts to the chill night air. Goose bumps cover my skin as I begin ripping the fabric into manageable strips, but I can barely feel the cold anymore.
The first strip I pack into the stab wound in her side, hoping to stop some of the worst of the bleeding. The next, I press to the gash on her face, tying it at the back of her head as tight as I can without hurting her.
I work on her arms and legs, tying off sections of my shirt around the shallow wounds. The whole time, Saffron fights and tries to pull away from me—-the pain too much for her to handle in her current state—but I refuse to let up.
“We’re almost done, Saf. I promise. It’s gonna be okay.” But even as I say the words, a pit of despair hollows out my stomach. Her wounds are so severe, and I’m basically plastering Band-Aids over her stab wounds. This will hold her for a while, but not forever.
Once the worst of the cuts are covered and the blood flow slows, I sit back on my heels, grabbing Saffron’s arms and attempting to get her to sit up. No matter how hard I pull, Saffron won’t budge. Her eyes keep rolling in her head, andI know it’s not the blood loss making her loopy.She’s been drugged.
