Safe Hands

53. How Lucky

Grayson woke up to the sound of Rosa's voice, its usual warmth replaced by a tone that made his heart sink. He blinked, his mind still foggy from the night before, trying to piece together what had happened. The remnants of sleep clung to him as he sat up in bed, the events of the previous night slowly coming into focus. Anderson's party, the drinks, sneaking Julian and Russell back home.

He heard Rosa's voice again, more urgent this time. He slipped out of bed, the cold floor sending a shiver up his spine as he followed the sound to Julian's room. The door was slightly ajar, and through the gap, he could see Julian slumped against the toilet, pale and shaking, throwing up helplessly. Rosa was in the room, speaking on the phone, her free hand rubbing Julian's back as he heaved into the bowl. From the room next door, the same gut-wrenching sounds echoed—Russell, no doubt, suffering the same fate.

"Grayson, can you help Julian?" Rosa's voice cut through the air, taut with concern. "I need to check on Russell."

Grayson nodded, his throat tight as Rosa left the room, still talking into the phone, likely calling for advice or reassurance. He stepped inside, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked down at Julian. The younger boy looked up at him, his face drawn and eyes red-rimmed, exhaustion etched into every line of his features.

"Stop staring at me like that," Julian muttered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He looked even more miserable up close, a shadow of the lively kid he usually was.

"Congratulations," Grayson replied, his voice laced with sarcasm. "What got into you? Leaving the house like that, going to an adult party on your own? You could have gotten hurt, Julian."

Julian's gaze fell to the floor, shame mixing with the nausea. "I'm sorry, okay? My friends dared me. I didn't think... I didn't think it would be this bad."

Grayson sighed, running a hand through his hair, the weight of what lay ahead pressing down on him. "We need to clean this mess up before your dad or Uncle Damien finds out. You know what'll happen if they do."

Julian nodded, fear flashing in his eyes at the thought. "But... lying to Dad?" His voice trembled with uncertainty. "What if they find out anyway?"

"You don't have a choice," Grayson said, his tone firm. "Blame it on the food. Say you had an upset stomach. And don't—don't mention anything about a hangover."

Julian hesitated but finally nodded, swallowing hard. "What about Russell?"

"I need to talk to him too," Grayson muttered, already dreading the conversation.

As Rosa tended to Russell in the next room, Grayson helped Julian to his feet, guiding him out of the bathroom and into the study where they could talk without being overheard. Russell joined them soon after, looking just as disheveled and sick as Julian. Rosa had done what she could, but the boys' faces were still pale, their movements sluggish.

Grayson drew in a hard breath, shaking his head as he looked at them. "I knew it would turn into a disaster, but now we've got to fix it before it gets worse."

"Maybe we should just shut up about it," Russell suggested, his voice flat. "Tell no one."

Grayson frowned. "Uncle Alex isn't stupid. He's going to be all over this. And if he starts asking too many questions, he might get the doctors involved. We need to say something, and the food's the best bet."

Julian reluctantly agreed, but the worry in his eyes was still there. Grayson leaned closer, his gaze locking onto Julian's. "You're going to have to lie without flinching. Can you do that?"

Julian gulped, nodding slowly, though his hands were trembling.

"Why'd you even drink in the first place?" Grayson asked, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "You're too young for that, Julian. Do you know how dangerous it is?"