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She was glancing through the numbers when a familiar one appeared halfway down the page. Several times. More than that. Then she glanced at the dates.
Her heart took off, beating so hard, so fast, she was afraid she might pass out. Fear and panic warred inside her.
No, it can’t be…
She read the number again. And again.
No. No. No.
“Dante, can you read out the number I just highlighted?” she whispered, handing over her laptop.
Dante gave her a quizzical look.
“Just do it,” she hissed.
“250-455-8829,” he read out, then stared at her. “You recognize it?”
Sage felt like she did last night in the bunker.
Like she was going to puke.
Her vision blurred and her stomach heaved. “Washroom. I’m going to be sick.”
Dante grabbed her arm and hauled her out of the office, and the next thing Sage knew, she was crouched over a toilet in the bathroom, heaving her guts out.
Then she heard the toilet flush, and Dante wiped her face. He told her to stay put.
That was fine. Sage was too shocked to move a single muscle.
A minute – or it could have been longer – later, Dante reappeared and passed her a bottle of water. Jesse was standing next to him, and Xander behind.
“What’s wrong? Whose number did you recognize?”
“It belongs to—” Sage croaked, a huge lump forming in her throat. Tears welled up and she did nothing to stop them from falling.
Fuck, she didn’t cry in front of others. Only alone.
But she couldn’t stop. She couldn’t breathe.
Sage heard Dante calling her name, holding her, but she couldn’t react. The only thing she could do was ask herself why?
Why?
Then everything went dark.
Dante
Dante reached for Sage just before she collapsed. She passed out in his arms and thankfully, not on the cold bathroom floor.
His entire body flooded with panic.
Sage was a strong woman, so whatever she had discovered, it had to be major.
“Do something, Jesse! Help her!” Dante yelled.
All his army training flew out the window when he looked at Sage’s limp body in his arms. He flashed back to other bodies he’d carried. Ones that looked eerily similar. Ones that never made it back.
She’s fainted, that’s all. Sage is fine. Isn’t she?
