18
David
“Sutton,” I said, cautiously placing a hand on her shoulder.
She was white as a ghost. Her mouth hung open slightly, and she looked like she might vomit or faint. I tried to draw her attention away from her aunt.
“Hey, Sutton, why don’t we get you out of here?”
“Hmm?” she asked, as if going through a wind tunnel.
“I think you need a minute to regroup.”
“Okay,” she murmured listlessly.
I placed a hand on her back and carefully maneuvered her out of the backyard. She felt stiff and motionless as the reality about Helene sank in. She was dying. Another person Sutton loved was dying. I could already see she was drowning.
We moved through the glass double doors into the cool, air-conditioned interior of Landon’s house. It was a giant open floor plan with high-vaulted, wood-bea
