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I nodded, not trusting my voice.

“We’ll know more after the scan.”

I swallowed and nodded again.

She squeezed my shoulder before following. The doors swung shut behind them, and suddenly, the ER felt impossibly quiet.

Someone had done this to him. The thought didn’t make sense. Lane was careful and strong. He was the person everyone else called when things fell apart. The adrenaline that had carried me through the last twenty minutes began to drain away, leaving only the fear I had been holding back.

Lacy stepped beside me and pulled me into a brief hug.

“You did good,” she said. I looked down the hallway where they’d taken him and pressed my shaking hands together.

“I just need him to be okay.” My voice cracked, and I quieted the sob waiting beneath it, threatening to break free.

For the first time all night, nobody had a response.

Fifty-Six

Cali

The waiting was the worst part. In medicine, the unknown, could end in relief or ruin. All that mattered was getting to him. I sat outside the imaging suite, because the last thing the team needed was a distracted Nurse Practitioner hovering over them. Lane needed their full attention—not mine.

One of the plush vinyl chairs creaked beneath me. A Styrofoam cup of coffee cooled between my palms while my gaze fixed on a spot on the floor that refused to come into focus, no matter how many times I blinked back tears.

Every time the doors opened, my head snapped up. Every time they closed again without Lane, my stomach sank a little further.

The elevator dinged, followed by heavy footsteps echoing down the hallway. Jonah and Soren rounded the corner, moving fast—not quite running, but close enough that neither of them had bothered to hide their panic. Both of them looked like they’d left wherever they were the second they got the call.

Jonah spotted me first. His face hardened. “Where is he?” The question came out rough.

“CT scan.”

Soren scrubbed a hand over his face. “What happened?”

My mouth opened, then closed. Suddenly, I realized there wasn’t an answer to give. Not really. I knew the injury. I knew the vitals—blunt force trauma, head injury, loss of consciousness. Those details were easy. Facts always were.

But the story behind them was the one thing I couldn’t piece together. The EMTs had only said it happened at his dad’s house. The sheriff’s department had cleared the roads for the ambulance. Everything else was missing.

“I don’t know.” I lifted a hand before dropping it, realizing there was so much I didn’t know. The words felt inadequate the second they left my mouth.

Jonah frowned. “What do you mean you don’t know?”

Confusion etched itself across his face, and I couldn't blame him.

“The EMTs said they responded to his dad’s house.” It was all I had. The look that passed between them was instant. Silent and terrifying.

Soren’s jaw clenched so hard a muscle jumped beneath his five-o’clock shadow. Jonah’s dark eyes fell to the floor. He breathed out a string of quiet curses, as if pieces of a puzzle had just fallen into place.

Neither of them seemed surprised. My stomach twisted. They knew something.

Before the question could leave my mouth, a woman appeared at the end of the hallway. Honey-blonde hair spilled from a loose clip, strands clinging to tear-streaked cheeks. Mascara had smeared beneath her eyes. She wore a vintage floral dress that looked oddly formal for a hospital. Pink heels clicked frantically against the tile as she hurried toward us. The second Jonah saw her, he stiffened. Soren muttered something indiscernible under his breath.

“Oh, thank goodness!” She hurried toward us. “Is he okay?”

Instinct had me on my feet before conscious thought caught up.

“Are you family?” Even as the question left my mouth, certainty wavered. The woman stopped in front of us. Her eyes found mine.