Chapter 6: Pulse

I had not slept after Nolan left.

*He said he'd stake your life on it, Mara. Not his.*

I lay on the couch and counted how many days Tripp had known the deposit would never be paid, and how many of those he had spent kissing my forehead.

At six I gave up and called Ezra, because he was the only person who would not tell me I had misheard.

"Come to my office," he said. "Bring the drive. Nobody is going to say you misheard."

Vogel Ridge Capital had its office on the fifth floor of an old bank building, and on Saturday morning the elevator was broken.

I took the stairs because I did not want to ask a stranger to carry me.

At the third landing the walls tilted.

My ears rang, and the rail came up to meet my hand.

I sat down on the step and put my head between my knees the way I had been taught, and I breathed.

Footsteps came down two at a time.

"Mara."

Ezra crouched in front of me in a gray sweater, no coat, his hair a mess from running his hands through it.

"The elevator's out," I said. "I'm fine."

"You're not fine."

He took my wrist before I could stop him.

His fingers found the inside of it, just under the bone, and he looked at his watch.

I stared at the top of his head.

His hand was warm. It was steady.

Nobody had touched my wrist like that since my mother, the last year she was alive, when she held it every night to check I was still going.

"A hundred and ten," he said. "Slow down your breathing."

"I'm doing it."

"Do it more."

I did.

His thumb moved once across the pulse point, a small movement, back and forth.

Keep reading free with an account. Start They Borrowed My Surgery Fund To Leave Me Behind from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.