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“We’ll figure it out.” Silence envelops us as we sit there, waiting for Jay to call.

When my cell finally rings, we both startle. My fingers tremble as I bring it to my ear.

“Jay?”

“He’s okay. He’s passed out with a bottle of vodka, and I’m guessing from the fresh sutures and bandages that someone stitched him up. But he’s still breathing. Should I be worried?”

Relief slams into me as I mouth, “he’s okay,” to Conner. “No, but thank you though. Was there any sign of Warren?”

“Nothing, but I told Conner I’d let him know the second we see or hear anything.”

“Okay, thank you.”

“Kenny?” he says just as I’m about to hang up.

“Yeah?”

“Everything is okay, right? Conner isn’t—”

He knows. Jay knows what happened.

Shit.

But he helped me. He helped Conner. He g

ets it.

We can trust him—I hope.

“He’s okay,” I say, admitting nothing aloud. “Thanks again.”

“Anytime.”

We say goodbye and hang up, and I throw my arms around Conner. “He’s okay. He’s okay.”

The next morning, I wake before Conner. He looks so peaceful, lying there. I don’t have the heart to wake him.

Gingerly climbing out of bed, I pull on the pajamas Hadley lent me last night and grab one of Conner’s hoodies before slipping into the hall.

I follow the smell of coffee and pancakes, arriving in the kitchen. “So you’re alive then?” Cole arches a brow, amusement playing on his lips.

“Alive? Why wouldn’t she be alive?”

My heart jumps into my throat at the sight of Mr. Jagger.

“I... uh, good morning.”

Cole silently chuckles and I discreetly flip him off, as his dad acts as if it’s just business as usual.

“Is that son of mine coming down for breakfast?” he asks.

“I... he’s sleeping.”

Wow, this is awkward. I assumed he was out of town again. Sarah too. But here he is, smiling at me knowingly.

“Relax, Kennedy. It’s good to see you here. We’ve all been worried about Conner.” He and Cole share a look.

“He’s okay,” I say. “I think we’re going to be okay.”

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