***
Seth sat quietly, his mind focused on Natti at the hospital. Q kept glancing over at him, concerned. Letting out a deep breath, he finally decided to break the silence. “I had to tell him, Seth. You do understand, right? She’s one of them.”
Seth’s jaw tightened, not responding. Q returned his eyes to the road.
“Are you in love?” Q glanced over, waiting. “I just want to help, Seth. If your father discovers—”
“He would have never discovered Natti if you two kept your mouths shut as we had agreed.” Seth spat.
“The bitch—”
“Stop calling her that!”
Q froze for a moment before speaking again. “You need help, man. You know the punishment if a Son of Set falls in love.”
Seth’s entire body cringed. “Yeah, I know.”
“You’ll lose everything! You’ll become nothing!”
Seth turned to Q. “Have you never had something that was worth risking everything for?”
Q gazed at him. “Dude, money and power are one thing, but love? Even if she wasn’t a bitch of Isis, it’s not worth it!”
Seth clenched his fists.
“Just forget about her. Find another girl, bang her, and move on. Or pick a chick, brain wash her, and get this out of your system. Anything to get you back on track. But you totally have to drop the bitch.” Q sighed, returning his eye to the road. “She won’t be around long anyway. Now that the hem-netjer knows about her, the wab priests will have to act quickly.”
Seth’s head snapped around, his heart racing. Which is why I’ll have to work faster, if I want to get her out of Setemple alive.
The Audi came to a stop, and Q put it into park. “Take a drive and clear your head, Seth. And if you know what’s best for you, let the priests deal with the girl.”
Seth stormed out of the car and into the student parking lot, letting the door slam behind him. He stared at the caution tape wrapped around the building entrance. From the exterior, no one would have guessed there had been a fire. His attention was drawn to the only two cars in the parking lot: his Jaguar and Natti’s Mini Cooper. He let out a sigh of frustration.
The Audi window lowered behind him. “I mean it, Seth. Don’t even think about returning to her, it could mean your life.”
He ignored Q’s warning and marched to his car. The silver Audi took off, the wheels screeching. The car turned back onto the road and disappeared into the night. Seth crawled into his car, slumped behind the wheel, and turned on the ignition. He let the car idle, pulling the Secret Keeper’s letter from his pocket. He couldn’t believe he was this close to finding the location to Ra’s secret name. He only hoped the contents would be enough to buy Natti and his life. Opening it for the first time, he read the message, running his fingers through his hair. His guilt plunged his heart into his stomach.
“Crap,” he whispered and wiped his face. The letter was worthless, only mentioning that the secret they sought was contained in a box. No specifics, no details—just a ‘box.’ And worse, the letter revealed Natti knew nothing about the Daughters of Isis and Sons of Set. “I really screwed up, didn’t I?”
Holding nothing to trade, he folded the letter back up and reached under his seat, pulling out a thick envelope. He opened it and counted out the stack of hundred dollar bills: fifteen hundred dollars. Would that be enough? If he and Natti were going to be on the run, together, how much would they need? He tossed it to the floor, threw the Jaguar into gear, and he shot onto the road. The car groaned and roared when he shifted into high gear.
Julie strolled through the quiet hallway with a cup of coffee in her hand and a rolled up magazine under her arm. When she entered Ms. Stone’s room, she found the girl’s father slumped back in the hospital chair asleep alongside his daughter. A smile tugged at her lips. She placed down the cup on a small table and checked the clock overhead. It was ten past nine at night.
“Mr. Stone?” The man shot up when she grazed her fingers over his arm.
The girl’s father sighed in relief and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “How is she?”
“Still asleep,” Julie informed him. “I brought you some coffee.”
She handed him the steaming cup. Mr. Stone raised it to his lips, taking a large gulp.
Julie examined his weary eyes and the tired lines of his face. “Sir, why don’t you go home?” She nodded to the door. “It would be much more comfortable than that chair or the hospital bed. And you look as if you need your rest.”
Mr. Stone glanced at the clock. “No, I’m . . . I’m fine . . .”
“Sir, I insist. You both had a hard day.”