Chapter 15

“Natia!” Simone roared into the house. No response, and Simone looked around wildly, hoping against hope not to see Natia hurt, or hit, or—

There she was.

She was standing in the middle of the living room, stock still, hands up in front of her face still as if warding off a blow. Her hands, forearms, and parts of her face were scratched from what must have been flying window-glass. Natia wasn’t moving, and her eyes were tightly shut.

“Natia?” Simone asked slowly, repeating herself, feeling her ears ringing with a frozen sort of panic.

Natia didn’t respond at all, not even when Simone put her soaking wet hands on the woman’s shoulders and led her to sit on the cleanest part of the couch. The sirens were closer, or maybe that was still the buzzing in Simone’s head.

“‘Sthe—” Natia’s voice was very thick and ponderous, and it startled and frightened Simone. “‘S the driver…a’right?”