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“The restroom.” I say. I did come from that direction. He buys it. “You’ll let me know?”
“Sí.”He blinks back tears as he looks at his daughter. It’s enough to make him seem human, almost normal. “Get her out of here.” He nods at me and then moves on to the next group huddled around with some EMTs.
I pull out my phone again and exhale with heavy relief that there’s a message.
Robbie: Status?
Mark: I’m fine. Eleanna isn’t. Who was it?
Robbie: Unclear
Mark: What was it
Robbie: “Electrical fire” in the abandoned kitchen space next door. Homemade but smart.
Mark: Someone needs to pay
Mark: And I want to see to it that they do.
Robbie: Negative, you need to stand down.
Mark: She’s unconscious on a stretcher!
Robbie: Sedated, not unconscious. She’ll make a full recovery
Mark: She was BURNED.
Mark: You don’t understand that kind of pain.
Robbie: I’m sorry. I am. Your orders are to lay low and play concerned husband.
Mark: Fuck you, I am concerned.
Mark: Why no heads up? You didn’t know? What kind of overwatch is that?
Robbie: Comms have needed to be - and still need to be - clear.
Mark: If she’d just gone to the damn car. WTF
Robbie: About that.
Mark: ?
Mark: ???
Robbie: She saw you with Melody in the alley
Oh shit. Shit shit shit.I forgot all about Melody. My grip on my phone tightens somehow, when the thin metal casing was already close to collapsing.
Mark: Great.
Mark: and what the actual fuck is she doing in Texas, exactly?
Robbie: Stand down. Stay low.
The messages disappear, along with my connection to any kind of answers. I stalk back to Eleanna’s side.
Mother of all fucks, I hate this.
