Emily stared at the phone screen, the small blue dot pulsing on the map. Live location shared. Her fingers trembled.
The call was still open, but the only thing she could hear was faint static… and somewhere in the distance, a muffled groan before it went silent.
Her heart pounded so loudly she could hear it in her ears. God… what do I do?
The clock on the wall read 11:42 p.m. The campus was mostly quiet now, the hum of evening life reduced to an occasional door closing down the hall. Outside, the gates would be half-shut. No buses. No friendly faces. And the blue dot on her phone was miles away — in a part of town she didn't know.
"Emily?" One of her roommates poked her head in, brows furrowed. "Who was that?"
"I—" Emily swallowed. She couldn't say it. Couldn't explain why her stomach was twisting like she'd swallowed ice.
"I need to go somewhere," she said instead, grabbing her cardigan and clutching her phone like it was a lifeline.
"Now? Are you insane? It's dangerous at night."
"I don't have a choice."
The roommate's gaze flicked to the rosary still looped around Emily's wrist. "You always have a choice."
Emily didn't answer. She stuffed her feet into her sneakers and rushed toward the door.
Outside, the air was cold and sharp, biting at her skin as she hurried toward the side gate. Her phone buzzed — the location updating — and she realized the dot hadn't moved. He's still there.
A part of her screamed to turn back. Another part whispered: If you don't go, he might not make it till morning.
She tried calling a rideshare. Estimated wait time: sixteen minutes. Sixteen minutes? That could be the difference between him living or…
Emily bit her lip, scanning the dark road beyond the gate. Then she saw an older man in a delivery van pull up to drop off a package at the security post.
Her mind screamed at her that it was reckless, stupid — but her feet moved anyway.
"Sir!" she called, running up. "Please… can you take me into town? I'll explain on the way."
The man hesitated, glancing at the security guard. "It's late, young lady…"
"Please," she said again, her voice breaking. "It's urgent."
Finally, he sighed and unlocked the passenger door. "Get in."
As the van rumbled to life, Emily kept her eyes glued to the map, watching the blue dot. Her lips moved in silent prayer, words tumbling over each other.
Lord, guide me. Don't let me be too late.
Miles away, Ethan lay sprawled on the cold concrete, his shirt soaked and sticky with blood. The fever was clawing at him now, and his vision blurred. Somewhere in his haze, he thought of her — her wide eyes, the way she gripped her rosary like it could shield her from the world.
He smiled faintly, even as the darkness closed in.
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