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Where are you?
Within seconds her phone sounded with a texted reply and relief spread through her body.
Outside your door.
What? She got out of bed and practically ran to her living-room door, peeped through the viewer and undid the chain and dead bolt.
“Why didn’t you knock?”
“I left the hospital and had just gotten off the elevator when your text came through.”
“Oh.”
“Did you miss me?”
She could lie. She could tell him she hadn’t. But he looked so exhausted, so much as if he needed her to tell the truth, that she did.
“Yes.”
“Good.” That was all he said. Good. Then he stepped inside her apartment, waited while she relocked the door and safety chain, then took her in his arms.
“What took you so long?”
“Kevin Rogers died.”
Emily’s breath caught. The little boy had died?
“Oh, Lucas!” She winced, then wrapped her arms around him. “I’m sorry. You did all you could.”
“Did I?”
His question caught her off guard. “Of course you did. I was next to you all those hours you searched for bleeds, making sure you stopped each one.”
“Obviously, it wasn’t enough.”
She hugged him. “You aren’t God, Lucas. You can’t heal what’s too broken to mend.”
“I know that, but that little boy shouldn’t have died. He was too young to die.”
“Age has nothing to do with injuries. You know that.”
He swiped his hands through his hair. “Is it okay if I take a quick shower? I headed straight here and I’m a mess.”
She nodded. “Have you eaten?”
He shook his head.
“Lucas, you’ve got to take better care of yourself. You don’t sleep. You don’t eat. What am I going to do with you?”
“Let me shower, then I’ll show you exactly what you can do with me.”
“I’m going to heat you up something to eat while you shower. After you’ve eaten, we can discuss whatever you want to show me.”
“Deal.”
* * *
The shower had turned off long ago, but Lucas still hadn’t joined her in the kitchen, where she’d heated up the leftover takeout she’d brought home.
