Page 78 of Rescuing You

Michael stayed beside his friend while medical personnel rolled him inside.

Leila shut off the truck and dropped the keys in the console.

But before she could jump out, Jasmine climbed into the passenger seat, shoving a black bag at her feet, a bag Leila had never seen before.

Her hands were covered in blood.

“What are you doing?” Leila asked. “We have to go in!”

“Michael said we must stay in the truck.”

“Why?”

“He didn’t explain, only that we were to find a dark corner and wait for him.”

Leila didn’t want to do that, not one bit. But she did what her sister said, backing the truck into a spot at the edge of the lot, its rear to a building, where they could keep an eye on people and cars coming and going,

And waited.

There were so many questions, so many things to say, but all Leila could think was Please, God. Please don’t let him die.

Splat had been a stranger that very morning. He’d been kind. He’d risked everything for them.

And now it looked like helping them might literally cost his life.

She didn’t even know his real name.

How many would have to die because of her desire for freedom?

She hated the fear that tried to edge its way in, but what if more guards were looking for them? Where was Waleed? Had he been killed? Or was he alive, searching for her even now? If he’d seen Splat’s injuries, if he’d witnessed their escape, he’d know what they were driving and could guess their destination.

Would he know they’d come to the hospital? And if so, wasn’t sitting in the truck a bad idea?

Thirty minutes passed. Then an hour.

No guards came. But Michael didn’t return, either.

What if the guards had found him inside? Or what if Michael was injured as well and hadn’t told them?

What if something terrible was happening while they sat there and did nothing?

She opened her door.

“What are you doing?” Jasmine grabbed her arm. “Stay here.”

“I’m just going to check on him.”

Before her sister could argue, Leila slipped out. She hadn’t noticed the temperature earlier, and now she took a deep breath of the cool, dry air. What a difference a few hundred miles could make. She fast-walked to the entrance and inside. It was an empty room. Abandoned, like the airport. Like the streets, where evil men attacked.

She visited the restroom, then grabbed a handful of paper towels. She wet some of them, kept others dry. If Jasmine wouldn’t come in, at least she could get the blood off her hands.

Back in the entry, Leila tried the only other door.

Locked.

She didn’t know what to do. Should she knock? Bang until someone opened it to her?

Or just trust Michael?