Nate scrambles. I intercept Hailey again, trying to guide her back toward the bed without actually hurting her. She’s not listening, not seeing us, really. Her mouth keeps moving, her face tight with panic. “Elijah—he’s not okay—I know it—dammit, Celeste, let go of me—!”The sleeping bag hits me in the shoulder.“Thanks,” I mutter, yanking it open on the floor. “Hailey, I’m really sorry about this.”“What are you—don’t you dare—” she tries to make another beeline for the door.Nate tackles her low while I pull the fabric around her in one swoop, dropping to my knees as we wrestle her inside. It’s messy. Limbs are everywhere. At one point I think she almost bites me.But eventually, she’s rolled up like a rogue cinnamon bun, zipped to her shoulders and still squirming. “This is so undignified,” she grumbles from inside the fleece, trying—and failing, thankfully—from getting herself free.“Yeah, well,” I say, collapsing next to her, “you were two seconds away from punching a window.”Na
Dernière mise à jour : 2025-09-26 Read More