-Caleb-
Wade was not my favorite person right now.
As he laid Jacey carefully down on the sofa and checked for even pupil dilation, I paced the rug anxiously.
“Sit down, Caleb,” Darren said after a while.
“She’s fine. Maybe a very mild concussion, but she shouldn’t need to see a doctor,” Wade muttered, putting his penlight away. He got out a needle and some thread-like substance. “Dissolving stitches,” he explained to me when I opened my mouth to ask. He concentrated on Jacey’s grazed arm, carefully sewing the wound shut.
“Look at her legs! What the hell happened?!” I demanded to know.
Jacey, Darren, and Wade all looked at me with failing patience on their faces. “They did get me out, Caleb,” she said.
“Yes, but look at you! You got shot!” I gestured at her arm.
“He was a bad agent
