Page 63 of Break Point

I should have known. I should have seen this. There must have been signs.

The sound of her voice when she woke up and tried to say my name haunts me. She was hard to understand at first, like when someone is half in a dream state. And when her eyes found me, the fright behind them was unparalleled. I should have done better with my own expression, because the moment her gaze hit mine, she started crying. I’m sure I looked sick, or terrified. I felt both.

I still feel both.

“Bryson, hey!” Amelia’s voice snaps me out of the constant mental replay. I stride across the waiting room to meet my sister in the middle, and I hug her like my life depends on it.

“I’m so sorry. Traffic was a nightmare. I brought what I could. What do you need? What does Jaden need?”

My sister has packed a bag of clothes and toiletries. I freaked out when I called her, and I just asked her to bring anything she thought Jaden might want later, the basics like a clean T-shirt, some sweatpants, maybe underwear and a sports bra. Amelia and Jaden are similar sizes, I think. I don’t even know.

I take the overstuffed tote bag from my sister and set it in one of the open chairs, flopping down in the next one as my sister sits across from me.

“I don’t know anything yet. I’m not family, and her parents are on a flight. I had to call them, Amelia. I had to—”

I choke up at the memory of getting Jaden’s father on the phone and telling him his daughter was being taken to the Mercy ER. That’s how I met the man. By crushing him. And I didn’t even have the details to help calm his rabid nerves.

Amelia moves to the chair next to me, and the weight of her hand on my back settles me for a deep breath. My head is pounding from the wild swing of emotions I’ve been through over the last three hours.

“It’s good you were there. I’m sure her parents were glad it was you calling. The school officials would have been cold about it, you know? They worry about everything they say turning into a lawsuit.”

I nod, then suck in a ragged, deep breath. I straighten my spine and scan the room, which isn’t as full as it was when we first arrived. There were at least twenty people in here a few hours ago, all waiting to be triaged. The wait is down to three or four, so at least the audience for my complete and utter meltdown was small.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, so I fish it out and fumble it onto the floor. Amelia picks it up for me and swipes the message open before placing it in my quivering hands.

“It’s an update from her dad. He’s been texting me. They’re on the plane.” I grip the back of my neck and blow up at the wild hairs that are tickling against my forehead. I’ve been pulling my hair a lot over the last hour. I’m sure I look like a crazy man.

“Good. Do they need a ride? I can pick them up at the airport. I want to help.” Amelia is so much calmer than I am in situations like this. It’s always been in her nature. When our father had a heart attack a few years ago, she was the one who handled things while I spiraled into a helpless teenager. I couldn’t understand how a man like him could be brought to his knees so easily. It scared me. We have our differences, but he’s still my dad.

“I’ll ask,” I say, cradling my phone against my lap as I type a response.

Jaden’s dad responds almost immediately with their flight information and an all-capped ​​Thanks​​.

I AirDrop the details to Amelia’s phone. I can’t even imagine how much this last-minute flight is costing them.

“You should eat something,” my sister says, placing my phone on the table in front of us that’s covered in magazines.

I nod, then lean forward to place my head in my hands. My fingers circle my temples while my mind races.

“I’ll be right back,” she says, rubbing my back again. I nod but don’t look up. I’m assuming she’s heading to the vending machine. I’m not hungry, but I know I need energy. I’m not leaving this room until I know Jaden is okay. And if I have to sustain myself on stale peanut butter crackers and fruit snacks for days, so be it.

My pulse is finally close to normal. I keep checking it on the free pulse oximeter machine at the front desk. I’m sure Beth, the admin worker with tiny wire glasses and jet-black hair, is tired of sanitizing it. It’s keeping my mind busy, though.

My phone buzzes against the wood grain of the table, so I dash to it to answer my sister’s call.

“Hi. Did you find them? Are you on your way back?” I feel out of breath, which probably means I should check my pulse again. I glance to Beth, though, and she quickly looks down to avoid my gaze. I sit down instead.

“Breathe, Bryson. Yes, we’re almost there. I’m going to valet the car so we can come right in. Is it busy there again?”

I get up from the chair and pace around the nearly empty room. The wait is down to two patients, and I think one of them is just a drunk guy the staff is letting dry out.

“There’s nobody here. I’ll tell the front desk they’re on their way so maybe she can have Jaden’s info pulled up and ready to go. I’ll meet you out front.”

I end our call and march toward Beth. Her head tilts and her shoulders hike up, but when I wave my hand I think she gets that I’m not there to bother her unnecessarily again.

“Jaden’s parents are almost here. I just wanted to give you a head start so they can get to their daughter quickly.”

Beth nods and begins typing on the computer. I pivot and begin heading toward the sliding entrance doors.