Sinister Storm
Bennett was the only one who seemed remotely grounded, his arms folded, watching me like he expected me to crack any second.
When the doctor finally appeared, I was already on my feet.
“Family of Xane Baxter?” he asked, scanning the room.
“Yeah—me,” I said too quickly, my voice rough. I had been trying to reach his mum to no avail.
Bennett came to stand beside me, his hand brushing against my shoulder in quiet reassurance. “He’s my friend too,” he murmured, like he could read my mind.
“Xane’s stable,” the doctor said. “But he was lucky. If he had come in any later, we would have been having a completely different conversation.”
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