The Thought Readers (Mind Dimensions #1)(57)

But no. She slowly lowers the gun. Then, hurrying over to Tolik’s dead body, she picks up her pink phone from the table next to him and runs out of the room.

Finally shaking off my strange numbness, I run after her.

“What the f*ck was that?” Caleb yells after me, but I don’t have time to explain.

I keep running after her, gaining speed, but she’s fast. After chasing her down a couple of flights of stairs, I slow down and then stop. Even if I catch her, I have no idea what I’ll say.

Feeling exhausted all of a sudden, I go back and rejoin Eugene and Caleb, who seem very confused. Julia is bleeding, her face deathly pale, and Eugene is hovering next to her. His face is almost as pale as hers.

“What’s going on?” Caleb asks, frowning at me.

“Don’t ask,” I say. “Please.”

“Is Mira okay?” he persists.

“I think she is, yes,” I answer wearily. “I mean, she’s not hurt—physically, at least.”

“Fine. Then help me,” Caleb says. He gives Eugene the keys and tells us to get the car. Meanwhile, he picks Julia up like she weighs nothing, and starts down the stairs. Everything seems to happen in a haze.

Eugene and I get the car in silence. He looks back toward Caleb and Julia once, then looks around, probably hoping to spot Mira. She’s nowhere to be seen, but we find the car in the Costco parking lot, where we left it. I drive to the curb, pull up, and Caleb carefully puts Julia in the back. Caleb reclaims the driver’s seat, while I ride shotgun. Eugene gets in the back with Julia. I hear them talking quietly, but make out only her repeated insistence that she’s fine.

In five minutes, we’re parked at the Lutheran Medical Center. Caleb gets out as soon as the car’s stopped. He leans in Julia’s window. “You holding up okay?”

“Fine,” she says. “Really. I’m okay.” She doesn’t look okay—she looks like she’s about to pass out. Eugene doesn’t look much better.

“I’ll be right back,” Caleb says. “Give me a minute.”

As soon as he’s gone, I hear the sound of Eugene’s text alert go off. I don’t know why, but the sound alone fills me with dread.

“Darren,” Eugene says after a few seconds. “Mira just texted me. She’s on her way here on foot. She says she wants you gone when she arrives.”

I don’t know what to say. “Okay. I’ll go then.”

“What happened?” Eugene asks, his face the very definition of confused.

“Talk to Mira,” I say tiredly. “Please don’t make me explain.”

We share an uncomfortable silence. Through the haze surrounding me, I’m aware of Caleb returning a few minutes later with a wheelchair for Julia. How did he get one so quickly? Did he show his gun to someone in the hospital? Surely not, or security would be right behind him, I reason dazedly.

Caleb says something to Eugene and sends him on his way with Julia. Something about making sure she’s okay and about being back once he drops ‘the kid’ at his house. He also suggests some bullshit cover story to explain the gunshot wound. I listen, but I’m mentally somewhere else.

When Eugene and Julia enter the hospital, Caleb starts the car.

“Are you okay, Darren?” Caleb asks me as he pulls out of the hospital parking lot.

“Yeah, sure,” I say on autopilot. I’m far from okay, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“All right then, I’ll take you home. What’s your address?”

I give it to him, and he puts it into his GPS.

“Okay, good. Now give me your number, too, and I’ll get in touch with you soon. I’ve almost made up my mind about the first person whose fighting we’ll experience.”

“Great.”

“You’re in shock,” Caleb says. “It happens sometimes after a battle. Even with the best of us.”

I just nod. I don’t care about his theories or approval. I don’t care about anything. I don’t want to think.

My phone rings. It’s my mom Sara.

“Do you mind?” I ask Caleb. I think it’s very rude to talk on a cell in front of someone.

“No worries,” he replies, and I answer the call.

“Hello?” I say.

“Darren, I was beginning to worry,” Sara says. This makes my stupor fade a little. Beginning to worry is Sara’s default state. I don’t believe the woman has ever called me when she was chill. Of course, if she thought I was in even a fraction of the trouble I’ve been in today, she would go to her second-favorite state—panic about me.

“I’m okay, Mom. I was just busy today.” Understatement of the century.

“You aren’t mad at us?” she asks, and I immediately realize I’ve been an ass. I should’ve called to reassure them about the adoption business from the day before.

“No. We’re good, Mom,” I say, forcing certainty into my voice. Better late than never, I always say.

She seems to believe me, and we move on to the usual ‘how are you’ chat that we have every day. The whole thing is surreal.

When I get off the phone, Caleb is just a few blocks from my place. We ride in a companionable silence the rest of the way.

“This is you,” Caleb says when we get to my building.