Spring Rain by Lizzy Ford Page B

more water streamed into the bathroom.
    “Morgan!” the cry was faint. Uncertain if
she heard someone calling her name or not, she went still and
listened. “Morgan!”
    “Noah!” she screamed. “I’m trapped!”
    “Morgan, hold on! I –”
    She had no time to process the sounds of
scuffling. Within seconds, the air was gone. Morgan held her breath
and floated, silently screaming for help. Her lungs burned, but not
as much as the coldness in the pit of her stomach. Darkness crept
from the edges of her mind, and she felt herself start to slide
into unconsciousness.
     

Chapter Six
     
    Beck slept surprisingly well after all the
tedious tasks that went into running a school and an attempt to
read through some of the archaic writing in the massive book Amber
gave him. He woke up later than usual and took a long shower,
grateful for hot water after his time in the forest. It managed to
warm every part of him but his mourning heart, which remained cold
and heavy.
    When he was dressed and ready for his day,
he picked up his phone. It had three messages on it, one from Biji
probably telling him she wanted to go back to the forest, one from
Decker and another from a number he didn’t recognize.
    He listened to the message from the
unfamiliar number first.
    “This is Doctor Sheila Bridges. We found
your phone number in a cell phone belonging to someone we hope you
can help us identify. Please give me a call.”
    Puzzled, Beck listened to it again, guessing
someone had his number by mistake. He debated ignoring the call,
but the side of him that didn’t like others to be hurt got the best
of him, and he called back.
    “Doctor Bridges,” came the curt response.
From the voice on the speakers and sounds of quick movement, she
was in the middle of a busy emergency room.
    “Hi. You called my number earlier about
identifying someone,” Beck said. “I think –”
    “Yeah. One second,” she said in a thick
Boston accent. There was a muffled sound as if she had placed the
speaker against her clothing while belting out a couple of orders.
Seconds later, she returned. “Female, no name, no identification
aside from a cell phone. Wicked strange medical condition.”
    “I think you have the wrong number,” Beck
said.
    “Your number was listed
as home in her
contacts.”
    His instinct tingled, the subtle whisper of
the Light tickling him while he tried to identify what it wanted.
Was it simply because it was his obligation to help people and this
was an opportunity to make up for failing others? “All right,” he
said. “You’re at which hospital?”
    “St. Mary Mercy.”
    “Which is where?”
    “Las Vegas,” Doctor Bridges said
impatiently. “Can you be here before my shift is up in two hours?
Or should I leave a note for my replacement?”
    Beck almost smiled. It was a trick question
for him. He could be anywhere he wanted in seconds. “I can be there
by then,” he said.
    “Great. I just need your name for the
emergency point of contact form.”
    He shifted his weight between his feet, not
sure he was ready to take responsibility for some stranger’s life
like this. He wanted to help, not adopt someone. But he gave his
information, scribbled down the address and hung up.
    His eyes strayed to the history book once
more. He had some time before needing to be in Las Vegas, so he sat
down and skimmed through a couple more chapters. The material was
mostly pretty dry, reading like a school manual. The chapters were
labeled according to names he didn’t recognize – sources of the
oral histories – and he looked through the printed pages for
mention of Tranin or Bartholomew. At the rate he was going, it
would take a week or two to get through the book. An hour passed,
and he rose finally, stomach growling.
    Trotting to the main floor of the cabin, he
made his way towards the origin of the wonderful scents filling the
house. The doors to his father’s office and the family room were
closed. He hadn’t yet seen