Page 250 of Ricardo

Ricardo is still focused on the doctor. “Can I see him?”

“Yes. He’s being settled in recovery now. Only one or two for a few minutes. He’s unconscious, and he will likely remain that way for a while. The breathing tube is out, but he’s heavily sedated.”

“I understand.”

The doctor looks around the room, taking in the family, the tension, the way no one has relaxed even after the only good news we have had all night.

“His condition is serious,” he says. “But he is young, strong, and he got here quickly. That’s all in his favor.”

My eyes close.

I see my hands pressing down.

I see Dante’s face going white.

I see the paramedics lifting him.

He got here quickly.

That helped him.

I pull the words into myself before guilt can swallow them whole.

Ricardo turns then.

His eyes find mine.

The room seems to move back around us.

“Come with me,” he says.

I freeze.

“What?”

“Come with me.”

I shake my head immediately. “You should go. He’s your son.”

Ricardo steps toward me. “Yes.”

I shake my head again, harder this time. “Ricardo, no. This is family. You should have that moment with him. I can wait.”

His face changes, taking on that stubborn look I know so well.

“You are coming with me.”

I stare at Ricardo through fresh tears.

“Maybe he doesn’t want me there.”

“He does.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do. I know my son.”

The words are quiet, but the meaning is loud.