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Sure, it’s just a ten-minute walk, but carrying those heavy bags felt like a whole damn workout. I remember thinking I’d never walk there again after I bought my car, and yet, here I am, braving the scorching heat for a final trip to the grocery store.
I needed to get out of the house.
Do something productive and move my body instead of sitting on the couch worrying about Lexie’s appointment this afternoon.
Not to mention I was alone and bored out of my mind. Finn texted me he was taking Lexie for a walk a bit before I woke up, and Theo’s been MIA since yesterday—he’s probably with Lacey working on another pregnancy scare.
Glancing at the grocery bags in my hands, I try to drum up an excuse for my good deed. I won’t be living with Finn much longer. Realistically, I won’t even be there to eat the food I bought, but I couldn’t take off knowing the guys are two weeks of ramen noodlesaway from starving. I even made a few casseroles and left them in the fridge this morning.
I’m a minute away from the house when I check my phone screen and notice I have a new voicemail.
From Lexie’s vet.
Shit, how could I have missed this?
I don’t waste a second unlocking my voicemail and pressing the phone to my ear.
Static.
A beep.
Then a woman’s voice.
“Hi, this message is for Diamond Mitchell. This is Charlotte’s Vet Centre. We have you as Finn Richards’s emergency contact.”
Wait, what?
Finn chose me as his emergency contact?
“We weren’t able to reach him. We’re calling to follow up on Lexie’s blood tests and tell you we’ve found a rather…” She pauses. “Abnormal amount of white blood cells in her blood count, which could suggest something is amiss. Further tests are required to know exactly what’s going on. Please contact us as soon as you can at—”
I don’t hear a word of what she says next, my eyes glued to the Richardses’ mansion across the street.
The front gate is wide open. And there’s a puddle of something smeared all over the street, covering most of the sidewalk and snaking up the asphalt driveway leading to the house.
One of the grocery bags slips from my hands, its contents crashing against the concrete with a loud clatter.
Because the puddle isn’t water…
Or mud…
It’sblood.
