Page 78 of Manors & Mischief

Tonight, I might have lost everything again.

28

EMBER

The brave face I put on this morning feels like a façade until I start doing work around the house. Before the sun even shines in through the windows, I’m cleaning up the different stations since everyone left in such a hurry the night before.

It still feels crushing the way it all went down, and the last thing I wanted to do was disappoint anyone, but there’s more hope this morning. In fact, the mayor’s office will be my first stop. Devon will probably be over soon, and he can accompany me to a meeting with his mother where we can best decide what the next course of action is.

It’s probably a longshot to put something in place for tonight so that I can take the bed and breakfast’s slot, but it’s not beyond the realm of possibility. As Devon said last night, we can rally the town. We can get the other town offices involved. The good thing is this isn’t New York City, or hell, even Greenville. It’s small enough that the hoops we have to jump through are smaller than others.

I’m just finishing up sweeping the entire floor and making the rounds in the haunted house to make sure none of the kids left anything behind or put something out of place when my phone rings. I peer down in the dark when my screen lights up and see Mrs. Lachey’s name. Perfect.

“Mayor, I was just about to call you. Can Devon and I meet with you today about what happened last night? I’m really sorry about not answering your calls yesterday, but I was in a bad place. I appreciate you checking on me though.”

“Ember,” she says, and her voice breaks.

I emerge from the haunted house, and the fear that rattles up my spine has nothing to do with the scenes I just exited. This is a real feeling of dread.

“It’s Devon. He’s in the hospital.”

“What?”

She takes a deep breath. “Last night as he was getting home, he tripped on a ball that a neighbor kid had forgotten to pick up, and he’s insisting that he tore his ACL again, but we don’t know for sure,” she tacks on.

My stomach drops. Poor Devon. We’ve only briefly touched on the accident that ended his hockey career, but I could always feel the emotional toll it took on him to have that happen. To wish for something so badly for a long time and then have it ripped away from you…

“Where is he? I’m coming to see him.”

“He’s in Heritage,” she sighs, because even though this is her son she’s talking about, she can’t let the town rivalry go. Next, she’ll be wanting to get Harvest Falls a hospital.

“I’ll be right there.”

“Well, he said⁠—.”

Before she can even finish her sentence, I end the call, run through the house to grab my sweatshirt and jump in the car that barely lasted long enough to bring me here. It did though. It soldiered on, bringing me to Devon, and right now, he probably wants me there.

I make the trip to Heritage as quickly as I can with my GPS telling me where to turn. When I arrive, I find a small hospital, maples lining the street in front of it. I have to agree with the mayor, Heritage is nice, but it’s no Harvest Falls. Though, I’m not sure she would even deign to describe this town as being “nice.”

Cesspool, maybe.

My heart thumps as I make my way through the automatic doors. The bleach smell of a hospital immediately fills my nostrils as soon as I set foot inside as if it has to over-market that they’re a clean facility free of germs.

I stop at the tiny desk there, asking where Devon is, and I’m directed down a long hallway with hospital rooms on either side. I stop outside room nine, spotting Mrs. Lachey right away. She stands, and I walk in, spotting Devon’s leg first and then his whole body as I get around the curtain.

Relief filters through me. “Hey, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he says gruffly.

His face is pinched. His eyes have a faraway look. I’ve seen Devon mad before, even had some of his anger directed at me, and that’s what I sense when I look at him. Except, it might be worse because he also appears desolate. Some sort of brace protects his leg, but he pulls the sheet over it. I step toward the head of his bed when a man walks in behind me. “Mr. Lachey.”

I move in next to the bed, watching as the doctor stands on the other side. He eyes Mrs. Lachey and then me. “I’m his girlfriend.” I don’t know why those words come out. Devon and I haven’t even discussed it yet, but they ring true.

The doctor nods. “Well, I’ve gotten the chance to look at the x-rays now. It’s what you thought, Devon. ACL tear.”

His mom gasps. “Oh no.”

I peer over at her briefly. Her hands rests on her cheeks, staring at her son as if she’s lost.