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rip for me," I say, not even knowing what it is, but overwhelmed that he chose to come here to see me.
"I did," he says almost excitedly. "We found her." He looks around, realizing we're still in the foyer. "Is there somewhere private we can talk?"
I lead him to the room where I met with Niall when I first arrived.
"Found who?" I ask as soon as the door closes.
"Mara, the girl from the stairwell."
My mouth has a hard time forming words for a moment. "H-h-how?" I stutter.
"One of my partners is a tech guy. Brilliant. He designed our entry app, and vets the list. He was able to track her down. Something about triangulating and crosschecking ... I don't remember to be honest. But he obviously knows what he's doing, because he found her."
"Does he know why you were looking for her?" Suddenly I'm concerned that one more person knows about my presence in the stairwell.
"I was vague. Obviously he knew about the girl who fell."
"Allie," I remind him, insistent that he call her by her name.
"Allie," he repeats. "Sorry."
"So how do I talk to her?" I ask eagerly.
"You?" Parker scoffs. "You're not talking to her."
"But I need to explain what happened. I don't want her thinking I hurt her friend."
"She's not going to say anything."
"How do you know?" I'm not liking where this is going. He's being evasive.
"Because I talked to her. She understands what's at stake."
"And what is that exactly?"
"Don't worry about it."
My heart skips a beat at his non-response. "You better not have threatened her, Parker!"
He laughs off my reaction. "I told you I was going to help you. So I did. It's done." He looks down at his watch. "I'm driving back to New York, so I have to get going."
"You drove all the way up here just to tell me this?" I ask, suspicious, because he's being really ... strange.
"No. Not exactly."
I wait for him to explain, but he doesn't. I want to scream at him to tell me what the hell is going on.
"Walk me out?" He nods toward the door.
"You realize how weird all of this is, right?"
"No," he answers sincerely. "I care about what happens to you. Friends or whatever, I'll always take care of you."
I try not to make a face and call him out on his bullshit, because my gut is telling me something's off. I consider myself an expert at detecting untruths, and he's not sharing something.
I walk him out to the front steps of the administration building.
"Come here," he beckons, opening his arms. I lean into his hug, resting my head on his chest.
