Grace sits on the edge of the bed, careful not to bump Fowler’s leg. “You’ll be out of here in a couple of days, right?”
Fowler shrugs. “That’s what they claim. They said if I behave, I’ll be back on my feet in a month, but not back to the firehouse. I’ve won myself a half year or more of desk duty.”
Grace frowns. “Is that so bad?”
Fowler notices. “Are you worried about me, princess?”
Her blush grows brighter, but she meets his gaze straight-on. “Yes, Fowler. You almost died in a burning building.”
“To save a dog.”
She nods. “Which is admirable, yet doesn’t negate what nearly happened.”
Fowler glances at Zev and me. “I think she might like us again, boys.”
Grace playfully swats his arm. “Or I’m a kind and caring human being who doesn’t appreciate seeing my friends hurt.”
Zev’s eyebrows raise. “Friend.”
“Shut up,” Grace snaps, but she’s grinning from ear to ear. “I don’t know what else to say, but no, I no longer hate all of you.”
I raise my hands in defense. “I think we’ll take that.”
“You better,” Grace says.
Fowler’s face erupts into a smug smile and he digs into his ribs.
The room settles into a weird, cozy rhythm. Grace tries to convince Fowler to drink water instead of Pepsi, but it’s like convincing a wolf to eat salad. Zev tells a story about a kid on his summer hockey team who tried to bribe the refs with candy, and even Grace laughs, a sound these last few months so rare I want to bottle it.
It’s easy to forget, in moments like this, that we’re all broken in some way. I feel the old shattered pack dynamic reassembling itself, battered but not beaten. Even Grace, who’s spent the last few months hating us, seems a little softer, her shoulders less guarded.
When the visiting hour is almost up, I find myself wishing we could stay. Fowler’s fading a little, eyelids heavy. No, we should go.
I told my hand out to Grace. “I can give you a lift back?”
Grace stands and smooths her shirt. “Yes, thank you.” To Fowler, “We should let you rest. Which you better do.”
Fowler gives her a mock salute. “I’ll do my best.”
Zev slaps me on the back as we shuffle out. The three of us linger in the hallway, not wanting to say goodbye. Grace hangs one of the balloons on the whiteboard outside Fowler’s room, and she smiles when she catches my eye.
Zev says his goodbyes and hurries off to his own car. Grace rides shotgun again in mine. The whole drive home, I keep thinking about that moment in the hospital room.
All of us together, even for just an hour, felt right in a way I didn’t know I missed.
It reinforces just bow badly Zev, Fowler, and I fucked up in spring. And just how lucky we are that it seems Grace will give us a second chance.
CHAPTER 21
GRACE
Iwait for Charlotte at the curb outside our apartment building with my hands buried in the pockets of my faded hoodie. Even in late July, the early morning air is slow to take a hint. A city bus coughs past. The exhaust curls between the old brownstones, mixing with the roses on my skin and the distant, earthy musk of the river. It’s early enough that most of the Reverie cast is still asleep, or pretending they aren’t hung over after last night’s cast party post-show.
The building’s front door opens and Charlotte emerges with her backpack slung over one shoulder. She spots me and waves as she jogs down the stairs to meet me. “Hey.”
“Hey.” We hug and then start walking toward the arena. “Ready to kill it?”
She grins. “If by ‘kill it’ you mean ‘try not to eat it on a double loop,’ then yes, absolutely.”
