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“Only for a minute. We gotta go,” the paramedic said, then climbed into the back of the ambulance and shut the doors.
I ran toward my car, determined to follow them, but a police officer stepped in front of me, blocking my path.
“Not so fast, Mr. Fisher. We need your statement.”
I shook my head wildly. “I have to go with her,” I pleaded, but he refused, his hand still in the air.
“It’s either now or later.”
“Then later. Please. I have to go. I need to go.” I felt like I was going to go crazy as the ambulance pulled away, sirens screaming, my girl in the back.
“You’ll be at the hospital?” the policeman asked as he surveyed our surroundings, and I did the same.
Derek’s body was being processed. The coroner had just arrived, a police photographer was taking pictures of the body, and yellow evidence markers dotted the scene.
“I’ll be at General,” I told the cop. “I won’t leave. Unless she’s released, and then I’ll be at her house. Meet me there. I’ll come to you. Either way, I don’t care. just let me go, please.” I was desperate, not making any sense, but he finally relented and stepped aside.
“Drive the speed limit,” he yelled as I closed my door and pulled onto the road, spitting out gravel behind me.
Nothing had sunk in yet—not Derek having a gun on me, not him almost shooting me, not him being shot and killed. The only thing I could think about was Sofia in the back of that ambulance . . . all alone.
I called the bar and told Frank briefly what had happened and where I was headed. Contacting Sofia’s parents entered my mind, but I had no way to reach them. I had no idea where they lived, and I didn’t have their phone number. They had to be worried since she never arrived to pick up Matson after work.
It hurt my heart to imagine how scared Matson must be. The two of them were so close, and Sofia told me how he hated having his routine changed. And her not showing up to pick him up was one hell of a change.
I decided to make one last call before I pulled into the hospital parking lot, and dialed Grant’s number. He would want to know what happened. He’d never let me forget it if he read about in the paper or learned about it online instead of from me. And since he had no other life aside from butting into mine, I knew he’d meet me at the hospital and keep me company while I waited. Our conversation was brief; I cut it short when I reached the hospital.
After parking in the first space I found, I ran into the emergency entrance and headed straight for the woman sitting behind the check-in desk.
“Can I help you?” she asked with a smile.
“Sofia Richards. They just brought her in?”
“She’s here, but she can’t see anyone yet. Are you family?”
“No.”
“Husband?”
“No.”
“You’ll have to have a seat then. I’ll let the on-call nurse know you’re waiting for her. In the meantime, I’ve called her emergency contacts, so they should be here soon.” She dismissed me after that, her eyes focused on the computer screen in front of her.
When I hadn’t moved after a few seconds, she glanced back up at me and frowned as she pointed at the empty chairs in the waiting room.
Feeling defeated, I headed toward the ugly fabric chairs and plopped into one. And I waited. I would waited all night, all week if I had to.
Thankfully, I didn’t have to wait alone for long.
A woman walked into the waiting room holding Matson’s hand. As soon as he spotted me, his eyes lit up.
“Ryan! You’re back!”
He ran over to me, and I opened my arms to scoop him up.
“Hey, buddy. I missed you.”
