Destiny Gift (The Everlast Trilogy) - By Juliana Haygert Page 0,22
be dismissed from school for today.” General ovation took over, but with raised hands, the instructor managed to shut everyone up. “This isn’t for fun, people. Early this morning, the body of a student was found outside campus, near Madison Square. It seems the girl was assaulted, raped, and then killed.”
Like me, the whole class gasped. My stomach hurt as if I’d been punched.
Someone asked, “What’s her name?”
“I think most of you knew her.” The instructor swallowed hard. “The victim was Sarah Cunnings.”
Oh my God. Nausea swirled in my stomach. Sarah had been in most of my classes since I started NYU.
More students asked questions, including where she’d been found and when and where her funeral would be. I seemed to have lost my voice.
The professor continued talking about Sarah’s death and her family’s arrangements for her funeral.
“That’s it,” he finished. “You may go now. And be careful.”
He left, followed by my classmates, who exited silently.
I remained glued to the chair for a few seconds longer, trying to make sense of the news.
In my backpack, my cell phone vibrated. Shaking off the awful images in my mind, I picked it up, answered the call, and listened to the message.
“Who was it?” Raisa asked from behind me. I hadn’t registered she’d stayed.
“The hospital. They lost my curriculum and want me to go there and give them a new copy.”
“What time does your shift start?”
I was still baffled, my mind moving in slow motion. It took me a moment to think it through, to figure out what time it was now and what time my shift started.
“After this class.” I looked at my wristwatch again. “In about forty minutes.”
“So you’re going to the hospital right now?”
“I think so.”
“I’m going with you.”
“You don’t need to.”
“Are you kidding? After what happened to Sarah? I’m not leaving you alone.”
I flinched. I had forgotten about Sarah. I felt sick. “Guess my mind is somewhere else.”
“I’ll go, but we have to get a cab.”
The cab left us right at Langone’s main door.
“It won’t take long, right?” Raisa asked, crossing her arms. I did the same, wishing I had a thicker jacket. “Your shift starts soon.”
“I know.”
For some reason, my head snapped to the right, just as a silver car drove around a corner. It approached the hospital and advanced toward the garage, right beside the hospital’s main door. When the car was close enough, I realized it was a gray Audi A3.
I froze. It couldn’t be.
The vehicle cruised to the garage’s entrance. Its dark windows prevented me from seeing the driver. Paralyzed, I watched it proceed to the end of the first level—where there were a few empty spots—and park near an employee-only entrance.
The driver opened the door and stepped out.
My breath caught in my throat. My heart skipped a few precious beats. Raisa stood beside me and I clutched her arm, steadying my wobbling knees.
“Hey! That’s the guy I told you about,” she said. “The one at the club last week. Martha and Susan told me his name. It’s—”
“Victor.”
Chapter Eight
Victor Gianni, with his honey-colored hair, entrancing sea-green eyes, imposing figure, and his impeccable posture, stood next to his car. In my world. Not in a vision.
“How do you know his name?” Raisa asked.
Unable to find my voice, I shrugged. Besides, how could I answer that I had dreamed about him for the last nine months. And, until now, I had no idea he actually existed.
Nonetheless, there he was.
I squinted, analyzing him. His physical appearance, the car, and the setting were known to me, and yet he seemed different.
In my dreams, he was buoyant and romantic. He smiled and winked and spun me around imaginary ballrooms and danced with me in the middle of the street. He was my Prince Charming, born to make me happy, to be my best friend, and some day, to be my lover.
All in all, he was a very different guy from the one standing before me in the real world. The in-the-flesh Victor wore a worried crease on his forehead. He seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. I wanted to reach out, to comfort him, to help him. With blue jeans, a stark white polo, and brown boat shoes, he looked more like a mama’s boy than Romeo.
He spun and his gaze swept across the garage—across me—but his glance didn’t linger on me for more than one second. I gasped as pain stabbed my chest. He didn’t know me.