The Wrong Path - By Vivian Marie Aubin du Paris Page 0,60

wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “You look like you saw a ghost!”

She forced a weak smile. “I’m fine,” she assured them. “Just a crazy old lady.” Still, she couldn’t resist looking back at the tent, trying to control her shaking.

Apparently no one else had gotten the type of fortune Annabelle had, because they all came out rolling their eyes and laughing. They finished out the day riding on rides and taking pictures, and then they parted, Annabelle hopping into Trevor’s passenger seat as he slid into the driver’s seat.

“Did you have fun?” he asked, looking over at her with a grin as they drove.

She forced herself to smile. “Yeah. Thanks for taking me. Did you?”

“Of course. I was with you.” She smiled weakly and gazed out the front window, suddenly uncomfortable. There was a moment of silence, and then Trevor went on. “Annabelle… I want to tell you something.”

She knew enough about relationships to know that was an ominous sentence. Her heart beat quickened as she looked back at him. “Yes?”

He shifted uncomfortably, keeping his eyes fastened on the road. “Lately… I’ve been thinking we were headed for a breakup. You just… You haven’t been yourself recently.” He looked over at her quickly, his next words rushed. “But I just wanted to say that I’m sorry. I know it wasn’t like you. Today showed that. You’re totally back to normal. And I just wanted to say how glad I am you’re my girlfriend.”

She mechanically turned away from him and stared out the front window, unable to grasp onto all of the thoughts flying around in her head. At a time when she had felt the most like herself—the happiest she had ever really been—Trevor had thought she wasn’t herself? Trevor thought she was back to normal today?

Trevor had wanted to break up with her?

And then, from somewhere in the recesses of her mind, she thought, I wish he had.

Even as she tried to push the thoughts away, the memories of her time with Will suddenly surged up around her. ATV’ing. Riding in his car with the top down. Will holding her as she cried. Will climbing in her window late at night. Saving her at the party that weekend so long ago.

Her real self?

What did Trevor know about her real self?

“Stop the car,” she whispered.

“What?” Trevor asked, leaning toward her.

She turned toward him, feeling hot anger and betrayal built up inside of her, ready to burst forth. “St—“ she started.

“Hang on, Annabelle, just a sec,” he said, sounding flustered as he dug into the pocket of his jeans. She watched as he emerged with a ringing cell phone, something she hadn’t even heard through the blood rushing in her ears. He glanced at the number, looked startled, and said, “Hello?”

Annabelle’s fury faded instantly as Trevor’s foot lifted off the gas. He paled, his eyes taking on a glassy appearance. For a moment, she worried he might crash the car. “What?” she heard him ask hoarsely. “Where?” Annabelle felt her heart catch in her throat. “I’ll be right there.”

Trevor tossed the phone onto the SUV’s console, gripping the wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white. “My mom,” he said quietly. “She collapsed. She’s in the hospital. Can your parents come pick you up there?”

She felt tears form in her eyes. “Yes,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry, Trevor.”

He said nothing, but he drove almost twenty miles over the speed limit. He seemed to know the way to the hospital from memory, which she guessed wasn’t really surprising since he had been there with his mother so many times.

God… Mrs. Scarlett… It couldn’t be.

Annabelle closed her eyes, clasping her hands in her lap, and prayed for her to be okay.

She followed Trevor into the hospital, almost running to keep up with his rapid pace. He went straight down corridor after corridor, until they finally arrived in a waiting room lined with chairs. Magazines littered the tables, and against a wall, a television was on the news station. Trevor looked around, then walked up to the woman behind the desk, leaving Annabelle there by herself.

She looked around herself for Will, but he was nowhere to be seen in the nearly deserted room. Slowly, she joined Trevor’s side, just as the nurse at the desk was saying, “…talking to the doctors now.”

Trevor’s shoulders slumped. Annabelle lightly touched his arm as he thanked the woman, then moved to sit in one of the chairs in the middle of the room. He leaned forward, burying his