I finish clearing my desk and putting all my things into the box. My co-workers stare at me like Iâm infectious, saying nothing.
Theyâre glad to see me go.
I walk out without a goodbye.
Students clear a path when I walk out. Iâm sure they have questions, but no one asks me anything. Itâs almost like Iâm a virus. Contagious.
Redwood is finally getting rid of the poison.
âMiss Jamieson!â One of my best students chases after me. âIs it true? Are you really leaving?â
I nod. âDonât let this distract you. Keep studying, okay? Youâre almost at the finish line.â
Her bottom lip trembles and she steps back so I can pass.
Once I get to my car, my limbs feel heavy and my head is pounding. The adrenaline I felt from being on TV and giving Harris his due is gone, replaced by a strange emptiness.
No, worse than that.
Itâs like Iâm naked.
I stripped myself of somethingâsome armor, some protectionâwhen I put myself in front of the world and unmasked a villain. Now, Iâm left with the shambles of a life Iâd built here at Redwood. Itâs gone. The students. The memories. Someone else will have to protect them now.
I climb into my car and grip the steering wheel.
Up ahead, the parking lot is filling up with fancy cars, all belonging to the rich and privileged students of Redwood Prep.
For a moment, I donât move.
It feels like Iâm staring into a strange, yawning abyss.
My phone buzzes in my purse.
It has been for a while now, but I ignore it.
Whether itâs more reporters, Harrisâs lawyers, mom or Zane, I donât want to talk to anyone. My thoughts are sloshing around in my head. Liquid chaos. I just want to get away. Take a breath. Feel more like myself.
The car starts with a rumble.
Iâm so glad I got it out of the shop. I would have hated to catch a bus with the way Iâm feeling.
Rather than heading home, I take the open road. Somehow, I find myself heading in the direction of the cliff where Zane took me the night we kissed.
When I realize where Iâm going, I jolt and glance around guiltily as if someoneâs going to jump out of the bushes and accuse me of finding consolation in that forbidden moment.
Thereâs no one there.
I laugh softly to myself. âYouâre being ridiculous, Grey.â
Shaking my head, I slam on the brakes so I can make a right turn and go home.
My heels pump the brakes all the way to the ground, but nothing happens. The pedalâs lack of resistance takes me completely by surprise and, at first, I wonder if I imagined the sensation.
Weird.
My brakes donât feel like that.
The world outside the car blurs as the vehicle keeps moving, speeding up on pure momentum.
I slam on the brakes again sure that the first time, I made some kind of mistake and that this time, the car will slow as itâs supposed to.
But it doesnât.
The first trickle of panic steps in. Itâs like venom dripping on my face.
My eyes widen and I grip the steering wheel, pumping the brakes pedal furiously. The sound of the metal gears creaking fills my ears. It merges with the howl of the wind outside, battering my window.
Panic consumes me.
Fight or flight kicks in.
Should I jump out of the car? One quick glance at the speedometer tells me that would be incredibly foolish. Thereâs no way I could survive.
Up ahead, I see another car coming my way.
I honk like crazy and wave my arms.
âHelp!â
They keep driving, probably wondering why some crazy person is making noise on the road.
My heart is slamming into my ribs, clamoring all the way up to my throat.
What do I do? What do I do?
Zaneâs face pops into mind.
I reach over my purse and the car swerves wildly. Screaming at the top of my lungs, I wrench the car back so itâs flying straight and pick around my purse until I get my phone.
There are a ton of missed phone calls on my notification bar.
Fingers trembling, I swipe past them and call Zaneâs number.
He picks up on the first ring.
âTiger, whereââ
âZane!â I shriek louder than I ever have before. âZane, my brakes arenât working! I canât control the car and any minute now itâs going to crash.â The last words are barely understandable. Something about saying my predicament out loud makes me blubber like a baby. âZane!â
âSweetheart, listen to me.â He sounds breathless. Has he been running? âI need you to stay calm and answer two questions, okay?â
âNo, I canâtâ¦â
âOkay?â He sounds more firm.
I pant sporadically. âYes.â
âAre there any cars on the road?â
âNo.â I lick my lips nervously.
âWhere are you?â
âClose to the cliffs. The one where we kâ¦â
His silence is pointed, as if the significance of that isnât lost on him.
The car roars.
âZane!â
âAre your park brakes working?â he asks urgently.
âI donât know.â I start to reach for it.
âDonât yank it yet,â he growls. âOr you might go sideways.â
The world is a blur outside my window.
The panic is biting.
âShould I turn off the ignition?â
My fingers go for the keys when I hear him yell, âNo! Youâll lose power and steering and you might lock the steering column.â
âI have to do something!â
âJust take a deep breath.â
I inhale even though the very last thing I want to do is breathe when my world is spinning out of control and itâs very possible I might die if I donât get control of this car.
âNow, I need you to downshift and very gently pull the park brakes to slow your speed.â He coaches me in a calm voice. âAre you doing that, tiger?â
âYes.â I follow his instructions to a tee.
The speedometer starts to dial back.
âIf no one is around, you can swerve back and forth on the road. But. Be. Careful. And keep an eye out in case youâre in the wrong lane.â
I start to turn the steering wheel. My fingers are slick with sweat and they almost slip off the leather case.
âDonât get carried away,â Zane warns. I can hear wind rushing in the background and the sound of stones shifting under his feet.
âAre you⦠running?â
The sounds continue. âFocus.â
I keep doing what he instructed.
âItâs working.â Near maniacal laughter pours from my lips. âZane, Iâm slowing down!â
âGood, tiger. Weâre almost there. Now, I need you off the road. A rough surface will create resistance on the tires. Can you pull over to the side? Preferably somewhere grassy?â
âI donât see grass.â I peer over the steering wheel, âbut I do see a sort of off-road path.â
âGo there.â He sounds even more breathless than before.
âZane, are you okay?â
âIâll be okay when I hear that youâre okay.â
My heart skips a beat.
âTiger.â
âMm?â
âAre you focusing?â
I drag my gaze back to the road and steer the car into the rough path. The sand and rocks help slow the car even more and I eventually roll to a stop.
âI did it!â I scream. Throwing my head back in relief, I squeeze the phone to my ear. âZane, I stopped.â
âAnd Iâm almost there.â
âWhat?â My eyes bug and I glance around. Thereâs no one on the road. âHow did you drive here so fast?â
âItâs a long story and Iâm on foot, unfortunately.â His pants get even louder.
I unzip my seatbelt and glance over my shoulder, trying to see the direction heâs coming from. At that moment, I hear the roar of an engine.
The sound is familiar.
I whip around.
A tinted black car speeds toward me.
For a split second, my memory takes over and I realize itâs the same vehicle that tailed us that night after our meeting at the treehouse.
My fingers clamp around my phone and I let out a breathless, âZaneâ¦â
Before I can get any other words out, the black car crashes into me. I fly to the roof and then slam back down on the steering wheel.
Pain flashes through my body, searing my skull.
And then it all goes black.