Mrs. Hudson came waddling down the long hallway to our right, hair in rollers and a fuzzy pink robe wrapped around her short, plump body.
Her expression was panicked, face pale and startled as she got closer to us. Ethan laid on the tile floor, blood dripped from the bandage I tried to make and splattered against the cold stone beneath him. Mrs. Hudson’s eyes flicked between him and I, silently demanding to know what happened.
“We were attacked on the beach,” I explained, sobbing and sniffling. I tried to hold parts of myself together so that she could understand me, but fear turned me into a blubbering mess.
And I was so afraid.
“Stabbed?” She asked, her voice was far more calm than my own.
“Shot.” I clarified. Her face turned grim, but she nodded and took a deep breath.
“In t
