Chapter 27
Chris barged through the door of the narrow stairwell and stepped onto the roof. Cold wind hit his face and caught his shirt, pushing against him as he raced to Dylan’s aid. Dylan lay on his back with his right arm outstretched toward Chris. He dropped to his knees and then pressed his hands against the stab wound in Dylan’s chest as blood soaked Dylan’s tan T-shirt and spilled onto the ground. Chris’s eyes filled with tears and he wanted to look away, but Dylan’s dark, vacant stare wouldn’t release him.
A buzzing filled the night as Chris cried out.
* * * *
“Your phone’s going off,” James said.
Chris forced his eyes open. He groaned as he rolled onto his side, then grabbed his phone from the nightstand. It was his mom. “It’s not even seven yet,” Chris said, then closed his
