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search engine every single night. It was pathetic. Truly and
utterly pathetic.
Yet, there were other things she could have done that were
worse, at least to her mind. She could have paid someone to
keep tabs on Cassia. A PI or something. Vegas probably had
no shortage. She had never even tried to find Cassia on social
media. Looking up her name seemed like the least invasion of
privacy.
But now that she’d seen the article, Adalynn knew she had a
choice. She could do something. She could call hospitals in
Vegas until she found out which one Cassia was in. She could
go to Vegas and offer her help, whatever that might look like.
She doubted Cassia had health insurance. She could offer to
pay the bills that were probably mounting. She could help if
Cassia needed physical therapy after. She could be there as a
friend, even though they never really were anything but
strangers. Maybe Cassia had someone by now. Someone who
cared about her, maybe someone who loved her even. But
what if she didn’t? What if she had to wake up in that hospital
alone? What if she was scared and in pain?
That’s not your problem. The voice inside Adalynn’s head
taunted her. She knew that Cassia wasn’t her problem. Cassia
wasn’t a problem at all. That’s not how she thought of her. She
didn’t know what term she’d put on what she thought Cassia
was. The hard truth was that she wasn’t supposed to be
anything, but Adalynn had never managed to let her go. Did
that make her borderline creepy, soft-hearted, weepy,
sentimental, and far too lonely for her own good? Probably.
Was it going to stop her from going to Vegas to see if there
was anything she could do to help? No. No, it wasn’t.
