Chapter 13Wyatt was no stranger to being scared, but usually those fears were formless, nebulous things that swirled around in his subconscious and fed his anxiety. When Izzy’s eyes rolled back and he collapsed on the greenhouse floor, there was nothing imprecise about the fear that gripped Wyatt: it was sharp and cold and immediate.
“Justin!” Wyatt yelled. He dropped his basket and tomatoes scattered everywhere. “Justin! Help!”
It wasn’t Justin who made it there first. It was Lou, yelling into his radio, and then Sam, who must’ve been working farther down a row.
“Izzy,” Wyatt said, dropping to his knees beside him. “Izzy?”
Izzy’s eyes were open, but his gaze was distant. His face was swollen too, and his neck. Wyatt’s hands hovered over him. He was too afraid to touch in case he did s
