It hits me then, smashing into me with the intensity of a mac truck. I’ve been so consumed with Quinton and the crash that I never stopped to ask anyone if they contacted my parents.
“Did you contact my mother to let her know about the crash?”
Lucas frowns. “I called her the day you left, and then again when you were brought into medical. I even tried to get ahold of your father, but neither of your parents have responded.”
I nod and swallow past the knot in my throat. Part of me isn’t surprised, but another, smaller part of me is. Perhaps my mother didn’t care enough to make sure I was okay, but my father sent me here to protect me. If he discovered I was hurt or missing, he would’ve done whatever he could to help. I’m sure of it.
“Was that all? Your email made it sound like you had more than one thing you wanted to discuss.”
“That’s all. You’re free to return to your dorm.”
“Oh, okay. Well, please let me know if they get back to you.”
He nods again, and all I see in his eyes when I look back up at him is pity. He feels sorry for me. It’s written all over his face. The girl no one cares about. Not even her own parents care to know if she’s alive.
I’d laugh if it wasn’t so fucking sad.
Instead, I do what I do best and blink back the tears, refusing to let anyone see me weak. Quinton’s already seen the worst pieces of me, and he’s gone now. Now, I have to fend for myself… at least I know I won’t die.Maybe.