Page 95 of One More Chance

“Fuck,” I whisper, shoving another scoop of ice cream into my mouth. I will not cry a forty-seventh time, or whatever this would be if I actually allowed it. I simply can’t. I don’t even think I have any tears left.

“Yeah. Fuck,” Lyla repeats, digging her spoon into the tub.

After some time passes, with the two of us silently sitting there eating the mostly melted treat, I place it back down. Unable to eat anymore, I lie back on my pillow and stare up at the ceiling.

When there is a lot at stake, the body does one of two things. It either goes into action mode, seemingly moving on instinct to make it to the outcome. Or it shuts down completely, unable to move, paralyzed by fear and anxiety.

Until right now, my body had done the latter, hollowing itself out, wanting to feel nothing. But, I feel something slowly start to unravel in me. I grab my phone.

Me:Cora, I need your help.

Cora: With what?

Me:I need you to find out exactly where Jensen is, but keep it a secret.

I put my phone back down while I wait for her reply.

There’s something I need to tell Jensen, and I can’t do it over the phone.