The Year I Stopped Being His novel Chapter 388

"Director Foster," the guard scratched his head awkwardly. "The street cameras belong to the traffic department's grid. We don't have the clearance for that—"

Garrison didn't even let him finish before bolting out of the security room.

He tore through the lobby, and the moment the automatic doors parted, a wall of freezing rain and wind slammed into him.

The storm had worsened, evolving from a steady drizzle into a torrential downpour, the heavy drops exploding against the pavement in a blinding mist. The hospital parking lot was already flooding, the asphalt shimmering like shattered silver under the streetlights.

He sprinted to his car, threw open the door, and jammed his foot on the brake as the engine roared to life.

The wipers thrashed violently against the windshield, but visibility was shot—it looked as though someone was dumping buckets of water directly onto his car, blurring his headlights into useless yellow blobs.

He peeled out of the hospital gates, making it barely three hundred feet down the road before slamming on the brakes. He had absolutely no idea which way to go!

Where did she go? Where could she possibly go?!

He pulled over, hitting the hazard lights, and grabbed his phone. The rain hammering against the roof sounded like war drums; even with the volume maxed out, he could barely hear himself breathe.

He scrolled to Wyatt's number, his thumb hovering over the green call button for what felt like an eternity. He wanted nothing more than to demand the Deputy Chief dispatch his men to hunt her down!

But, but...

If Wyatt found out she was still alive, and worse, if the government found out... what would happen to Vivienne? What about the snow dragon base?

Besides, there was absolutely no proof that she was in immediate danger.

Calm down. He needed to calm down!

He deleted Wyatt's number from the dial pad. His thumb scrolled frantically down his contacts until he hit another name.

"Lexi Lowery."

It rang forever, so long he thought she wouldn't pick up. Then, a groggy, raspy voice answered: "Hello? Garrison? Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"Then call the cops!"

"I can't... not yet."

Lexi fell silent for two seconds, and then she understood.

"Then go find her!" Lexi practically shrieked. "Garrison Foster, you lost her, so you better drag her back! Where are you right now?"

"...In my car."

The line went dead quiet for a long moment, the silence filled only by the relentless roar of the rain.

"Garrison," her voice suddenly turned terrifyingly cold, the kind of laser-focused clarity that only comes when pushed to the absolute edge. "Don't panic. Sloane isn't a child. If she walked out of there on her own, she knows how to take care of herself..."

"Do you have any idea where she might have gone?" Garrison begged, a raw, desperate edge bleeding into his voice: