Fractured Luck // Owen Grady

•7

Before

About five minutes prior to my close call, my cell phone started to buzz in my pocket.

"Hello?" I asked.

"It's Lowery, hey. I have news--"

"Wait," I said, switching it to speaker phone, "Go ahead."

"Claire shut down everything north of the park," Lowery said in a hushed tone, presumably because it was classified information.

Owen shook his head in shame, "Which means she's getting closer."

"And there's a gyrosphere still out there," Lowery added.

"Did security go after it?" I asked.

"Well, that's the problem. They couldn't. Claire designated herself to go."

"God, she's stupid," I said instantly, forgetting Lowery was there. My eyes widening, I snapped, "Do not tell her I said that."

"Your secret is safe with me," Lowery assured, "Claire's headed your way."

"For what?" Owen and I said simultaneously.

"Your help. The two missing are her nephews," Lowery explained.

Owen stopped leaning on the railing at the mention of children being in danger.

I rolled my eyes, running a hand through my ponytail to adjust my hat.

Despite the hatred I held for Claire, those kids needed the most help they could get against that dinosaur.

"Fine," I mumbled to Owen, "I'm in."

"Where is she?" Owen asked Lowery.

"Head to the Innovation Lab. You'll see her," Lowery said, then ended the call.

I tucked my phone back into my pocket, leading the way from the bridge. With Owen on my tail I climbed down the ladder, hopped the four foot wall and walked across the stands to the exit.

Out on main street, Owen's hand locked with mine to avoid losing me. Together, we walked, eyes scanning the crowd for a frantic red head.

"Lauren!"

"There she is," I muttered.

Owen, spotting her before me, led the way. At the bottom of the stairs in front of the Innovation Lab, Claire grabbed each of our shoulders.

"Please, you have to help me--"

"Your nephews are in the valley, yes, we know," I cut her off, "How old?"

Claire retracted her hands, showing their heights with each hand. She tried to form words, but failed, the grimace on her face telling us exactly what we thought.

"You don't know how old your own nephews are?" Owen asked, eyebrow raised.

Claire stayed quiet, a sign that for once, she had nothing to say.

Seeing my lips start to form words, she held out a finger to me.

"Yes, Lauren, I already know I'm the World's Worst Aunt," she grumbled.

"Took the words right from my mouth," I said, nodding in approval, "Now, let's go save your nephews."