CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

150 9 2
                                    

LETHARIA VULPINA

"I know you're not gone, you can't be gone, no

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"I know you're not gone, you can't be gone, no."
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Derek, Scott, and I race down to the parking lot, following the cut exposed electrical wire as it made its trek from the top of the building. We arrive just in time to see that an ambulance has hit one of the fire hydrants, causing water to spill over some of the blacktop. The electrical wire has charged the water, electrocuting anyone who steps into the water, and Kira is at the center of it all, holding the sparking wire. She takes her hand and extinguishes the sparks, her eyes glowing orange as she does. She drops the uncharged wire and Derek dashes over to Isaac, who is on the ground, convulsing slightly from the electricity his body has endured.

"He's not breathing!" Derek shouts over to us.

It isn't long before a team of nurses starts running gurneys out to all those who have been electrocuted. I look around, not knowing where to turn or who I can try to help.

Helpless, I'm feeling helpless.

When they lift Isaac off the ground and onto a gurney, I cringe at the singed skin of his face. Turning around, I find Derek and Scott standing there behind me.

Derek's face actually looks sort of mournful as he tells us, "You have to tell Stilinski. You have to tell him what's really wrong with Stiles."

---

Two days.

Two days since Stiles went missing from the hospital. There was a power surge due to the electrical box exploding, and according to the sheriff and Melissa, the lights went out for a minute in the MRI room, and when they came back on, Stiles was nowhere to be found. Mom and David haven't asked me about anything that's happened in the last few days – all they know is that when I was at Scott's, something happened to Stiles, and I helped look for him – but they know something is off. I told them what Stiles told Scott and me; that he might have what his mother did and that it's been affecting him to the point that he wonders off.

Two days of waiting.

Two days of not knowing.

Two days of walking the hallways at school, eyes on me, knowing that I'm a friend of the boy who might be slowly losing his mind. The friend who's probably in love with the boy who might be losing his mind, not that anyone walking the hallways would know that. But I couldn't care less about what people think of me – it's Stiles that I care about. I don't want people to look at him and let this define who he is in their eyes.

I'm sorry that I couldn't do the same for you Bronwyn; I let other people dictate what I did and left Devenford. Maybe if I'd still been there, things would be different.

I finish getting dressed into a red long sleeve shirt, a pair of black skinny jeans, and my black combat boots. I leave my hair in its natural, half-wavy state, because touching my head just makes it ache. I check my phone, finding no updates from Sheriff Stilinski, Melissa, or Scott about Stiles or Isaac. Nothing from Stiles directly either. Groaning in frustration, I grab my bag and sling it over my shoulder.

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