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“She’s holding her own. She’s a strong lady.”
“What’s going on, then?”
“She has a shattered knee and a severely bruised pelvis. She’s lucky she didn’t break her pelvis. That’s a six month recovery. She also has several fractured ribs. I’ve repaired the knee as best I can, but she may require a knee replacement if my repairs don’t take. But right now, her bones are the least of our concerns. She had some internal bleeding. Dr. Melvin is finishing those repairs now. He’ll be out to see you when he’s done.”
“Was he able to stop the bleeding?”
“Yes, we think so. He’ll be able to tell you more when he comes out.”
“Then that’s good, right?”
She pursed her lips. Her head didn’t move. No nod. No shake. “Yes, for the internal bleeding, but Ms. Roberts, your mother is in a coma. She may have a brain injury.”
“What?”
“We’ll have a neurologist do a thorough evaluation once she’s stable.”
“Once she’s stable? Do it now, for God’s sake.”
Talon tugged at my hand. “Jade—”
I pulled my hand away. “No, Talon.” I regarded the doctor. “Do it now. Do everything you have to do.”
“Ms. Roberts, please believe me. We’re doing everything we can right now.” Her eyes spoke the truth.
“Does my mother have a chance?” I asked.
She smiled. “From what I’ve seen, I think she has a good chance. But Dr. Melvin— Oh, here he is now.”
A large man in scrubs walked up to us. He held out his hand to me. “Ms. Roberts?”
I nodded.
“Jim Melvin. Your mother is stable for now. She’s being transferred to the ICU for the rest of the night. We’ll reevaluate in the morning.”
I gulped. I should be asking questions, but none came to the surface.
“She’ll get the best care here,” Dr. Rosenblum said soothingly. “I can’t tell you not to worry, but at least get some sleep.”
“I want to see her.”
Dr. Melvin nodded. “All right. But only for a minute. And I have to warn you, she has a lot of contusions and lacerations. She won’t look normal to you.”
The doctors led me to the ICU and into my mother’s cubicle.
I gasped. She was hooked up to myriad machines, and her skin was gray and pasty. Her lips were cut, both eyes were blackened, and one was so swollen that the eyelid had turned inside out.
“She may require some facial reconstruction eventually,” Dr. Rosenblum said. “But obviously we’re more focused on keeping her alive right now.”
Her heart monitor blipped slowly. “Why is her pulse so slow?” I asked.
“It’s the anesthesia,” the doctor said. “It’s fine. As the drugs wear off, it will go back up to normal. She’s on a lot of pain meds right now—”
A buzzing soared into my brain.
“Shit,” Dr. Rosenblum said. “Crash cart!”
The buzzing turned to beeping—from my mother’s machines. My heart beat in tandem with the equipment. My skin turned to ice.
