Medora
“Where’s Reign?” Millie asked as soon as I joined them outside the theater.
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen him,” I replied, avoiding her gaze.
“This boy stresses me out. Why would he leave like that and not pick up my calls?” she groaned.
“You’ve been calling him?” I asked, my brows furrowing.
“Yeah. He texted earlier to ask where I kept the extra inhalers I brought with me, and now he’s not picking up,” she said, her tone laced with frustration.
“What?” I froze. “He’s asthmatic? Since when?”
My heart pounded in my chest, panic surging through me. The pieces clicked together, and I bit down on my lower lip. Had our time in the theater triggered an asthma attack?
I quickly pulled out my phone and sent him a text.
Me: Reign? Are you okay? Please text me back.
“Relax. Reign’s
