Kennedy sank back in the couch, breathless and light-headed. At least she wasn’t hyperventilating. Not yet.
Here she was, far enough removed from the ER so Dominic wasn’t worried about a bomb blast reaching her, but how was that supposed to bring her any comfort? Everyone she cared about, every single one of her friends, was in that emergency room. The Lindgrens. Willow and Nick. And now Dominic. She squeezed her eyes shut. What she wouldn’t give for a phone charger. Call her dad. Let him know what was happening.
Timothy Robertson. Kennedy hadn’t followed the boy’s case very thoroughly. Mostly, she’d heard details from others. Carl decrying the government overreach in depriving a couple of their parental rights. Willow was sympathetic from her homeopathic, anti-vaxxer philos……
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