The Becoming of Noah Shaw (The Shaw Confessions Book 1)

JAMIE TRIES TO FILL IN the gaps in my memory as I walk numbly out of the hospital with him.

“Goose passed out on the bridge as I was trying to get us out of there,” he says. So that happened in truth. Good to know. “Daniel was getting paranoid,” he finishes.

“For good reason, it seems.”

“As it happens, yes. So when Goose passed out, you tried to heal him, but I guess you couldn’t.”

“He’s all right though? When you said someone cut the—”

“He’s fine. I don’t know what the fuck happened up there, but none of us seems to be able to do what we can do anymore.”

“None of us?”

“None,” he says, shaking his head. But he stops midshake. “Well. One assumes.”

“One should never assume,” I say, mostly to myself. “Anyway, I’m sure it’s likely temporary.”

“Sure, why not,” Jamie says, head down, hands in his pockets. I notice he’s been avoiding the main streets. “Anyway, I realised I couldn’t do what I usually do, and the cops stopped us. Sophie started talking to them while we were still on the bridge. Offered to explain everything. She doesn’t seem to do well under pressure.”

“Christ.”

“So that’s where she, Leo, and Daniel are. If they haven’t destroyed each other yet.”

“And I insisted we get to the hospital,” I say. “To help Stella.”

“Actually, you had the presence of mind to say to the cops that you needed to go because of Goose. Being English and all, him not having family here, blah blah. It worked, they brought him to Mount Sinai too. I got to tag along because I said I was sick too. Felt pretty shitty, TBH.”

“He’s not still at the hospital, is he?”

Jamie shakes his head. “No, checked himself out.”

“Where’s he, then?”

“On his way to a hotel, I believe.”

“And Mara?” She’d been there until Stella dove. After that . . .

Jamie pauses before saying, “Not . . . entirely sure.”

“How’s that?”This material belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.

“Because she didn’t say.”

“But you saw her leave?” I have no memory of it.

Jamie appears to though. “Yes, but I didn’t ask where she was headed. We have a sort of a Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell policy with each other.” He looks up for a second. “I recommend it.”

Instead of his face I see Goose, unconscious, a drop of blood running from his nose to his cheek to the pavement.

I think of Stella’s last words:

Your move.

I withdraw my mobile. No texts from Mara, no calls from her. About a thousand others I still haven’t returned, though. “What’s the play, here, then?” I ask Jamie, feeling adrift.

“Well, you probably have an army waiting for you at the apartment. I’m going to my aunt’s place.”

“You don’t live there.”

“It’s probably better if I do right now. Speaking of,” he says, looking up at the clock tower.

“Right,” I say slowly. “Catch up later?”

“Yeah,” Jamie says. “Definitely.”

I don’t need my ability to know that he’s lying.