Chloe?” Timothy shouted to me from about twenty feet away. One of Chief Rose’s officers held him back.
“You’ll be able to see her in a minute,” the officer said. “The chief is interviewing her right now.”
I called out to him, my voice flooded with relief. “Timothy!”
He wrestled free from the officer and reached me in three long strides, wrapping me in a hug so hard that my sore shoulder cracked. Pain shot down the length of my arm, but I didn’t care.
I looked up into his face, still holding onto him. “Where were you?”
He flinched at my accusatory tone, and I wished I could grab the words out of space and shove them back into my mouth.
He frowned and held me tighter. “I was with Ellie. She wanted to walk to the cemetery to visit Ezekiel’s grave. The Amish cemetery is on the back corner of the property, and I didn’t want her to walk alone. She had come into the pavilion to ask Uri to go with her, but he wasn’t here.” His blue eyes searched my face. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Dylan and Uri are hurt.”
He scanned the room and stopped, transfixed by the blood-stained wall. He swallowed hard. “Where are they?”
“They’re both alive and on the way to the hospital. Uri has a gunshot wound to the shoulder and . . .
“And Dylan?”
I bit my lip. “I shot him with your nail gun.”
Timothy’s mouth fell open.
“In the leg and hand. The construction lesson you gave me came in handy.”
He crushed me to him in another hug.