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Hunter snatched the piece of paper from the side of the bed. “What’s this?”
“Hey! Give that—”
Hunter’s eyes flicked up to him, and his lips twisted into a shadow of a smirk. “H? And a heart? She’ll be back? Dude. This is a hospital.”
“Shut up, Hunter.” Michael snatched the note out of his hands. “How did you guys get in here?”
“Walked,” said Hunter. “Well, from the parking garage. Up until then we were driving—”
“They said you could have visitors,” said Adam.
“And we knew you didn’t have clothes,” said Hunter.
“Though now that I’m this close to you, I kind of wish we’d brought you a toothbrush.”
The banter reminded him of his brothers, and while it hurt, it felt good, too. He scrubbed his hands down his face and thought a toothbrush sounded delightful. Maybe he could get one from the nurse. “No—seriously. What are you doing here?”
Hunter raised an eyebrow. “We. Brought. You. Clothes. And—”
“Come on.”
“We’re being serious.” Adam came over to lean against the wall. His voice held some of the emotion Michael felt. “We saw them when they left. They’re not allowed visitors. Not at first.”
Them. Michael hadn’t thought of what his brothers’ being taken away would mean to anyone outside his family. Becca. Quinn. Adam. Layne. Would his brothers be in school tomorrow? How would that work?
Michael had to clear his throat. “Were they okay?”
“Shaken up,” said Adam. “They said their phones would be confiscated for the first three days.” He smiled, and it was a little sad. “So Nick slipped me his. He said to give it to you.” He pulled it out of his pocket and held it out.
A phone! Michael felt like he’d been handed a missing limb. But then he realized what Adam had said.
Three days.
“It won’t be three days,” he said. Now he understood why Hunter and Adam had come here: this separation was too new, too raw. The county had torn his family apart without warning, and here their friends were trying to glue the remaining scraps back together.
“How long do you think it’ll be?” said Hunter.
“At least another day. I can’t get in front of a judge on Sunday.” He used to love Sundays because it was the one day a week he didn’t schedule landscaping jobs—but he’d give up Sundays for the rest of his life if he could accelerate time right now. “David said he’ll try to get me a hearing tomorrow.”
“They’ll be okay,” said Adam.
“Did they tell you where they were going?”
“No,” said Hunter. “The social worker lady said it’s to prevent a ‘conflict of interest,’ whatever that’s supposed to mean.”
She’d said the same thing to Michael. “It means they’ve had issues with people breaking out—with outside help. Or people breaking in to cause harm.”
“Breaking out?” said Adam. “It’s not prison.”
Michael looked at him. “It’s not home either.” He frowned and admitted a truth he didn’t want to share. “I’m glad they’re locked down. It’ll keep them safer than being with me.”
Hunter and Adam exchanged glances. “What does that mean?” said Adam.
Michael glanced at the hallway, which wasn’t busy, but still had a fair amount of traffic. “Close the door.”
Adam did.
Michael kept his voice low anyway. “It means Friday night was a setup. Whoever started the fires in our neighborhood set that bomb as a trap.”
