Chapter 98 Chapter Ninety Eight
I blinked. "Huh?"
"You kind of stopped listening and started staring at nothing. You seem really worried about something." Martin poked my arm. "You haven’t done that in a while, are you okay?”
Out of the mouths of babes.
"Of course I’m okay. Sorry about that, bud. Let's get back to work."
Martin giggled, “You called me bud, just like Jace usually does.”
“Oh.” I blinked. How long have I been doing that?” I asked, surprised to hear it. I barely noticed that I was picking up some of Jace's mannerisms, probably from all the time we used to spend together.
“Don’t worry,” Marcus grinned, “I don’t mind it. And I bet he doesn’t either, so it’s okay.”
I cleared my throat, muttering, “Alright then. Let’s continue.”
We were deep into a discussion about how the introduction of the forward pass changed the game when Mrs. Dawson appeared in the doorway carrying a bowl of sliced fruit.
"How's the assignment coming, sweetheart?" she asked, setting the bowl down between us.
Martin made a face at the fruit; it was strawberries, which he hated because of the texture, and so he pushed it away with one finger.
"We're figuring it out," I said quickly. "Though maybe Jace would probably be more help with this particular topic than I. Football isn't exactly my strong suit."
Mrs. Dawson smiled sadly. "I thought so too. But unfortunately, he's rather occupied at the moment. I’m sure you know the treatments at the hospital have been quite taxing."
She pulled out her phone, checking something. "Thank you for reminding me, actually. I should go visit him today. It's been since yesterday morning when I saw him last.”
My mouth went dry.
Mrs Dawson was going to drive to the hospital, find her son’s room empty and start to panic.
"Mrs Dawson—" The words came out before I could stop them. "I don't think... that is, he might not be there when you—"
Her head snapped up. "What?"
"I just mean—" My brain scrambled for the right words. "He mentioned something about maybe being discharged soon? Or moved to a different facility? I'm not sure, I just—I wouldn't want you to make the drive and not find him there."
Mrs Dawson's face went pale.
She pressed her phone to her ear, already dialling before I'd finished speaking.
"Robert? I need you to send security to Jace's hospital room. Right now. Yes, I know what time it is, just do it!" She was already speed walking toward the door, her heels clicking urgently on the hardwood. "Call me the second they confirm he's there. If he's not—"
She disappeared down the hallway, her voice fading as she descended the stairs.
Martin's eyes were huge as he looked at me in surprise. "Is Jace okay? Did something happen?"
Guilt crashed over me. I'd just thrown Jace under the bus to his mother, fearing that something could’ve gone wrong.
He didn’t look very stable when I saw him that morning, he looked tired and done with everything.
And yet after this morning's disaster with our fight and the photograph and my friends practically shunning me, I was still trying to protect him.
"Everything's fine," I lied, forcing a smile. "It’s just a misunderstanding. Your mom's just being careful."
"But you said he might not be at the hospital—"
"I was probably wrong. I'm sure he's exactly where he's supposed to be."
Martin didn't look convinced, but he turned back to his worksheet with a worried frown.
We worked in tense silence for another twenty minutes. I was just having a breakthrough on how to explain the cultural significance of the Super Bowl in simple terms that Martin could understand when I heard footsteps in the hallway.
Noah appeared in the doorway.
He was dressed differently than this morning; looking sharper. He wore a black button-down, dark jeans that fit properly, and a sleek leather jacket.
His hair was styled instead of its usual casual mess. He looked older somehow, more put-together, as though he was going somewhere really important.
"Hey, Martin." Noah walked over and held up his hand for a high five. "Working hard?"
"Really hard," Martin said, slapping his palm. "I don’t really get any of it. I just want it all to be over so I can go back to math.”
"You've got the best tutor in the house. You'll figure it out." Noah's eyes slid to me. "Lena. Can I talk to you for a second?"
My stomach flipped.
"Yeah. Of course."
I followed him into the hallway, my heart hammering, my eyes cast down to the floor.
Noah didn't say anything at first. He simply looked at me with that unreadable expression that he'd had since this morning.
"Go to your bedroom," he said finally, his voice low. "There's a dress on your bed. Put it on and meet me downstairs in fifteen minutes."
"What? Where are we—"
"It's time." His eyes were dark, intense. "Whatever happens next, just follow my lead. Don't ask questions, and don't hesitate. Can you do that?"
Every instinct I had screamed that I should ask more. It would be really foolish for me to walk headfirst into uncertainty, and it would make much more sense to just ask him what exactly he was planning.
But I'd lost his trust this morning. Lost Nicole and Jake, and lost any claim I had to the new life I'd been building, and I had no other option but to get them back.
If this was my chance to prove myself and show Noah I was still all in on the plan, then I had to take it. Even though it was incredibly strange.
"Okay," I whispered. "I'll be ready."
Noah studied my face for a long moment, like he was searching for something.
Then he nodded once and walked away, leaving me standing in the hallway with my pulse racing and absolutely no idea what I'd just agreed to.
I climbed the stairs to my room, my hands shaking with tension.
On my bed was a dress I'd never seen before, completely unlike anything I had ever owned in my life.
It was a deep scarlet red, fitted and expensive-looking dress, something meant for a refined, mature woman and not a clumsy bumbling teenager like me.
The kind of dress you wore when you wanted to make a statement… or when you were going to war.
I picked it up with trembling fingers, the fabric smooth and cool against my skin.
I had only fifteen minutes.
Whatever Noah had planned, whatever test this was…
I was about to find out.