18

FALLON I’m barely conscious when my father calls me about an hour later. I jolt at the sound of the phone, my head had been resting on the wall where I sit, struggling to keep my eyes open. “Fallon,” my father says. “What?” I groan in agony as the adrenaline wears off. “They said her surgery was already paid for,” I sputter at his words. “Payment was processed an hour after Dr. Stevens called you last night, here I’m waiting for them to finish up.” My brows furrow. No, that isn’t right, I haven’t left. My eyes flick to Leone, and he folds his arms across his chest. My grip on the gun tightens as I awkwardly try to hold the phone, and keep my aim directed on them. “What do you mean it was already paid for?” I ask. Leone clears his throat and my eyes dart to him; he is the only person who knew I had taken a call earlier and the only person I know with that kind of money. Something tells me it was him, but why? “Have someone call me when she is out.” “Fallon!” my dad murmurs. “What are yo