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The suspicion on his face made me think he didn’t, but that he suspected—which meant Elijah hadn’t told him.
None of them said anything as I walked by, but they all watched me openly, and I watched them right back. The feud between Elijah and Mason that’d led to the fistfight had obviously been somewhat resolved in the ring, but the Princes still weren’t the united front they’d once been. They were fractured, keeping secrets from each other, each functioning as an individual rather than a mindless part of the four-headed monster.
That was good. It would be easier to take down four boys than one monster.
But my heart twinged a little as I walked by and took in their bruised faces, Finn’s earnest brown eyes, and Cole’s carefully stoic expression.
I didn’t always know what I wanted from the four of them. Did I want their apologies, like Elijah had given me? Or did I just want to ruin them?
When had they all gotten so deep under my skin?
And how was I supposed to get them out?
At least classwork ramping up gave me a distraction. I had noticed Adena and her crew—which solidly included Preston and his friends now—holding court in the hallways more often. More kids seemed to be scared of her than had used to be, and her hangers-on were always eager to be assholes to me, knowing it’d get them in good with their queen. But I ignored all that to focus on getting through the week.
I spent every sixth period working on my audition piece under Finn’s watchful, quiet gaze. I could tell he was itching to talk, and to be honest, I missed our conversations in that little room. But I wasn’t ready to let him in like that again.
My two tests went okay. American Lit was tough, and when I glanced over at Finn, I almost felt sorry for him. He wasn’t a stupid guy, I knew that from talking to him, but he obviously had a hard time with certain subjects. I wondered if his dad would have to make some kind of donation to the school or something if Finn didn’t pass his final exams on his own.
My Spanish test was on Thursday, and since we were allowed to leave once we finished, I got released from class early. I was just hitching my backpack onto my shoulders when the door opened, and Miss Wallace poked her head into the room.
“Talia? There’s a phone call for you in the office. Can you come with me?”
My brows pulled together. “Um, sure.”
She nodded, barely waiting for me to join her before striding down the hall. I glanced at her curiously as we walked, trying to guess who might want to speak to me. Who even knew I was here? Maybe the lawyer, Erin Bennett? But she had my cell number. The judge who’d ruled on my appeal to access my trust early?
Inside the admin offices, Miss Wallace ducked back behind her desk, picked up the phone, and pressed a button on the large cradle. “Here you are, dear.”
I took it, putting it to my ear. “Hello?”
“Hello.” A youngish-sounding male voice spoke on the other end of the line. “Is this Talia Hildebrand?”
“Yes, it is.”
“My name is Chad Lutsen. I’m calling from Roseland Medical. Philip Hildebrand was admitted to our facility just a short while ago, and we’ve been unable to reach his emergency contact. Your number was in his recent contacts. Are you a relative?”
My mouth went dry. My brain had gotten hung up around the words “admitted to our facility”, and I was struggling to catch up, to figure out what this meant.
“Yes.” I swallowed, blinking stupidly down at Miss Wallace, who was watching me with a concerned expression. “I’m… his granddaughter. What—what happened?”
“Your grandfather suffered a stroke. He’s in surgery now, and we’re doing everything we can to help him.”
The panic that’d been rising slowly, held down only by my blind reassurances to myself that nothing bad had happened, flooded my body so quickly my knees buckled. I braced one hand on Miss Wallace’s desk, the phone shaking in my other as I pressed it to my ear with bruising force. “Is he… okay?”
“His stroke was serious. I can’t give you a better prognosis until he’s out of surgery. But I wanted to reach out to you so you were aware what was going on and could come be here if you’d like. We’ve been trying to reach Jacqueline Hildebrand as well; she was listed as his ‘in case of emergency’. Do you happen to have an alternate contact number for her?”
“I… No. I—”
“It’s all right. We’ll get ahold of her. If you’d like to come to the hospital, we’ll be able to give you updates as soon as we have them. We can also call—”
“No! I’m coming. I’m coming!”
“All right.”
He rattled off the address, and I gestured desperately to Miss Wallace for a pen and paper, writing it down so fast it would be a miracle if I could read it later.
