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Chapter Three

The shrill noise pierces through me. My phone alarm sounds much louder than it ever has before.

"Someone shut that off." I cover my ears with my hands. My eyelids stick together, glued to my eyeballs. Why is my head throbbing like this?

"She's conscious," someone says. I can't tell who it is, or who they're talking to, or why they're within earshot of my bedroom.

Of course I'm conscious. I was asleep and now I'm awake, or I will be once the fog clouding my brain clears.

The clanging continues. I thrash my arm to the side, fumbling to find my phone. My hand meets leather upholstery. I'm not in my bed. Is that even my alarm?

As painful as my headache is, I listen carefully. The alarm isn't my phone—it sounds more like a fire horn. It reminds me of fire drills from the days I attended school. The noise drones on, accompanied by wailing sirens that must come from outside.

Outside of where, though? Where am I?

It's an almost Herculean effort to force my left eye open. A fluorescent light shines directly into my eyeball. My eyelid slams shut again as a reflex, but now I have a location. I'm on a sofa in the green room of The Domino.

Why am I here? I should be on stage.

I open my eyes again but look to the side this time instead of up. Mom, Elton, Brynn, and a few uniformed police officers huddle together in a corner. Reality snaps back into place.

The explosion. The blood. The bodies. Oh my God.

"Where's Sawyer?" I try to sit up, but pain shoots through my temples and I pitch to the side. My hold on the sofa's armrest keeps me from toppling over.

Mom is at my side in an instant. "Easy, Deni."

I ignore her warning and scan the room for my best friend. He isn't here.

"Sawyer!" My throat and mouth are dry, and the attempt to call for him ends in a coughing fit.

Elton appears with a bottle of water. He removes the cap and hands it to me. "Sawyer is fine," he says. "He ducked out after his set to get tacos down the street with his band and Carter. He wasn't here."

He's obviously trying to stay calm, but the underlying notes of anguish and panic in his voice give him away. I swallow a few sips of water and take everything in. Alarms and sirens wail from all directions, and crackles and pops of static come from police radios in the hall.

"What about everyone else who was in there?" I ask. "I saw people on the floor."

Elton exchanges a look with Mom. He doesn't answer me.

"I need to know."

"Some of them are injured," Mom replies. "Some have been taken to hospital, and others are here with paramedics."

"Everyone's alive, though, right?" I phrase it as a question, but it's really a desperate prayer.

Mom and Elton are both silent, and neither of them meets my eyes. I push myself up from the sofa. Blood rushes to my head and makes me dizzy, but I force one foot in front of the other and make it to the door.

"Deni, don't go out there."

Mom's words only prompt me to move faster. I have to know what happened. If she and Elton won't tell me, I'll find out for myself.

There's a heavy police presence in the hall. The officers and yellow crime scene tape stand between me and my path to the stage and main room of the venue, but I still charge forward in that direction.