Page 58 of Cross Me

“Nonsense. You must be so proud of your son. When I saw his name in our files, I knew it must be him.”

“I was thrilled when he was asked to participate,” she said, managing a difficult smile. “But I’ve been avoiding the track. It makes me nervous.”

“He’s going to be okay!” I blurted out and instantly regretted it.

Rachel shook her head and then nodded. “I know you’re right. These things happen. It’s not the first time he’s crashed.”

“It isn’t?”

“Oh heavens, no. I should have more faith. He’s a good driver.” A small sob rose through her body. “It’s just that he’s all I have. Look at me,” she said, dabbing her eyes. “Anders would be so upset if he saw me raising such a fuss. You can’t mention I did.”

“Of course, I won’t, I promise.” It was the least I could do. “It’s my fault he’s here. I wanted the games.” It slipped from my mouth thoughtlessly, but Rachel grabbed my hand, shaking her head vehemently.

“Don’t think that. He would’ve been racing somewhere. It’s in his blood.”

“I imagine he does take after his father. Todd was always a daredevil,” Henry said. He looked over her shoulder to answer my questioning look.

“We served together when we were younger,” Henry explained. So, like most Royals, Henry had been a member of the armed forces. “I’ve been telling Anders stories about what his dad was like before he was born.”

“Before he died,” Rachel added quietly. My heart broke all over for her. I hoped she was right and the accident wasn’t that bad. The problem was I had seen it, and it did look that bad. I would do everything in my power to make certain Anders walked out of here.

Then I would try to knock some sense into him. He had no business racing if he was the only family his mother had left. Why hadn’t Henry told me this? I’d been too preoccupied with Alexander’s misplaced jealousy to learn about Anders’ past. I made a mental note to ask Henry for details later.

A doctor walked into the room, pulling a mask from his face. He looked tired, worn down by years of delivering bad news. Instantly everyone was on their feet, crowding him.

“Just a moment. Where’s his mother? Rachel?”

She took a tentative step forward, a path clearing between her and the doctor.

He smiled reassuringly, and I felt a wave of relief wash over me. “It’s not too bad. A broken arm and a couple broken ribs. Nothing we haven’t seen before with him,” he said with a smile.

Rachel flung her arms around his shoulders and hugged him tightly. “Thank you, Dr. Wilson.”

All around us everyone cheered. They might’ve been through this before, but I imagined it was always a relief to get good news. I wondered for a dark moment what it would be like to get bad news. How many more times would Anders’ mother wait for Dr. Wilson to deliver it?

“He’s resting comfortably. I want to limit visitors for now. But he’s asking to see you.”

He dropped an arm around her shoulder and leaned in to whisper something. Rachel started and then turned to look directly at me. She said something to Dr. Wilson, and he nodded. I chewed on my lower lip, suddenly wishing I hadn’t come here. A nurse took Rachel through a set of double doors and she disappeared down a long corridor. Dr. Wilson rounded and scanned the room. When his eyes landed on me, he did a double take.

He came over and spoke in a low voice, “Anders asked to see Clara. His mother assumes he means, um, you.”

My head tilted, trying to puzzle out why I would be the person he wanted to see right now. “He’s probably worried about the games, but he shouldn’t be. We can talk later. Maybe he wants to talk to his team?”

“He was quite adamant he needed to speak with Clara. Is there a Clara on his team?” Dr. Wilson asked with the delicacy of a doctor delivering bad news.

“No.” My mouth felt like I’d swallowed a handful of cotton balls.

“Then would you speak to him?”

I couldn’t speak past my dry tongue so I tipped my head in quick agreement, hoping no one had seen this exchange.

“This way.” He led me through the double doors to a recovery room.

I froze at the door, my eyes falling on Anders and his mom talking. She was hovering over him, brushing hair from his eyes and shaking her head as she spoke. Anders replied and she pulled back sharply.

“Your Majesty?” Dr. Wilson prompted, his hand on the door handle.

“I’ll wait,” I choked out. I had no business here, no matter what he’d asked. This was a private family moment. Any business I had with Anders could wait. I was about to ask Dr. Wilson to relay this message when Rachel came bursting out the door.