Last Breath Read Online Free PDF Page B

tomorrow, Shaley.”
    â€œYeah. Good night.”
    As Ross opened the door, I caught a glimpse of Mick, sitting on a chair in the hall.
    The door closed, and suddenly I felt so alone. I looked around the functional, cold-feeling room.
    I can’t believe this. We’re in a hospital.
    My eyes landed on a plain white clock on the wall. It was past one o’clock in the morning.
    I crossed the room to Mom’s bed and gazed down at her. Now that she was asleep, she looked so relaxed, free of pain. If only she could sleep through the whole healing process.
    Something inside my body gave way, and my legs went weak. I stumbled to my bed and sank upon it.
    In two days’ time I’d seen three people killed, been chased by a madman, and stalked by a paparazzo. I’d hardly eaten or slept. And now this accident. No wonder I felt like a wet noodle.
    Stretching out on the bed, I tried to remember my life three days ago. When everything had been normal . The memories felt distant and grayed. I’d been counting the hours until Brittany could join us on tour —
    Brittany.
    I needed to call her about Mom. We hadn’t talked since before the concert.
    Rolling toward one side, I slipped my cell phone out of my back jeans pocket. In that very moment, it went off—Brittany’s ring tone.
    I punched the button to answer, throwing an anxious look at Mom. She didn’t move. I’d have to speak softly. “Hi, Br—”
    â€œShaleeeey!” Brittany screamed in my ear. She was sobbing. “What’s going on ? I just saw Rayne on TV—being hit by a car!”
    â€œIt’s on TV? Already?”
    What a stupid question. Of course it was on TV. The reporters probably dashed all the way to their stations. Now the whole nation could gawk at the sight of my mom getting hurt.
    â€œShaley, what—”
    â€œ Wait. ” The meaning of her words slammed into me. “Just what did you see?”
    Reporters had been everywhere. I knew they’d filmed Mom lying on the ground. But had one of the TV cameras managed to shoot through all the bodies and film the actual accident—and the seconds leading up to it?
    Cat pushing Mom.
    If someone got that on camera—we’d have proof.

7
    H ang on, Brittany.”
    Cell phone clamped to my ear, I yanked the TV remote from a metal roll table beside my bed and punched the power button. The sound sprang on to a loud, blaring commercial.
    â€œAh!” I threw another frantic look at Mom, praying I hadn’t woken her up, my fingers scrambling for Mute .
    My nerves sizzled. Where was the stupid thing?
    â€œBrit, wait a minute.” I threw down my phone, took the remote in both hands, and jabbed the TV off. In the jarring silence, I looked for the mute button, my pulse beating double-time. When I found it, I turned the TV back on and immediately pushed the sound off. A car commercial snapped into silence.
    I took a deep breath. Glowing light from the TV spilled into the room, onto Mom’s still form. She slept on.
    I snatched up my phone. “What channel is it on?”
    â€œAny cable news channel, pick one! Shaley! What happened?”
    Flicking through channels, I told her. “But did you see everything? Even Cat pushing her?”
    â€œI—I don’t know. I was just sitting here, flipping channels, and suddenly there’s a reporter talking about Rayne O’Connor—and then this bit of tape—”
    â€œWait.” The hospital TV landed on CNN. A reporter was talking into a microphone, the hotel entrance in the background. I pushed the sound back on and pressed volume to turn it way down. “It’s on CNN right now.”
    â€œOkay, I’ll get it.” Vaguely, I registered the rustle of her movements over the line.
    We fell silent. I leaned forward, gaze glued to the TV. The scene switched to taped footage. Holding my breath, I watched the horrible scene play out. It started