Page 34 of Property of Quake

A shaky breath comes through the line but no words.

“Sister Emiliani?” I ask, all traces of exhaustion evaporating. Still, no response. “Whitney!” I snap, panic infusing my tone.

“Quake.”

I release a breath, relieved to hear her voice. It’s trembling, but I can hear how she’s trying to remain calm.

“What happened?” I demand.

“It’s Melissa.”

I put the phone to my ear, grab my keys off the table by the door and leave my suite. “Tell me what happened.”

“I don’t know. She’s terrified, crying. Her shirt is torn, and she keeps saying she’s scared but refuses to tell me what or who she’s afraid of.”

Rage settles in my chest. “Is she hurt?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“Are you still with her?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” The night air does nothing to cool my anger. “Stay with her, okay? I’m coming.”

“Quake, you don⁠—”

“I’m coming,” I snap as I use my keyfob to unlock my truck. I’d be faster on my Harley, but I have no clue what I’m walking into, and I might need more seats. “I’ll be there as fast as I can.”

I hang up and climb into the driver’s seat. The trip to Sacred Haven seems to take forever, and my knuckles are white from the force of my grip on the steering wheel.

When I arrive forty-five minutes later, it’s dark except for the light coming from the office window. I know this is normally the time when the Sisters have retired to their rooms, and the children are likely in bed, so the lack of activity isn’t alarming.

Not Melissa or Whitney.

I jump out of the truck and head to the front entrance. The door is locked, and I pound on it. Once, twice, three times, and then the door swings open.

Whitney launches herself into my arms, and that tells me just how worried she is.

“Sorry,” she says when I release her. “I don’t know what possessed me to do that.”

“No need to apologize,” I assure her, having enjoyed her hug more than I have a right to.

Movement behind her catches my attention, and I step inside, closing the door behind us. Melissa is cowering by the office, her eyes red from crying. She moves to stand next to Whitney, and that’s when I notice the tear in her shirt.

“Hey, sweetheart,” I say, keeping my tone gentle.

She buries her head in Whitney’s side, and Whitney gives me an apologetic look.

“It’s okay,” I assure her. “Why don’t we go i⁠—”

Footsteps thunder down the staircase, and we all turn to see Sister Beatrice racing downstairs like she’s running out of a burning building. When her eyes land on me, I swear a ghost of a smile lifts her lips. It’s gone so fast, replaced by concern.

“What’s going on?” she demands, her voice scratchy from sleep.

Melissa and Whitney dart their gazes to me as if begging me to answer. Hard to do when I have no clue myself.

Sister Beatrice sighs, pointing toward the office. “Inside. All of you.”