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“Well, I can’t say I’m happy, but... Jason’s okay. That’s the most important thing right now.”

“True,” Mum said, concern still strong in her voice. “Ellie, I hate this world you’ve been dragged into.”

“I hate it, too especially because I know how much you worry. But I promise I won’t get lost in it. Once Jason’s out of hospital, we can all move on.”

I have to believe that.

Beside me, Drew tensed, and I reached for his hand. “Mum, I’ve got to go. Thanks for the warning. I’ll give you a call later.”

After I hung

up, I turned to Drew. “Did you catch all that?”

He nodded. “Everyone knows.”

“Yeah. But how?”

Drew let out a humourless laugh. “We aren’t important enough to have our phones bugged, so my guess is, some underpaid doctor or nurse decided to make a bit of cash on the side by selling a story on the local rock star.”

My mind leapt to Natalie, the nervous nurse, but I quickly dismissed the idea. She was afraid of her own shadow, and she loved Razes Hell, especially Jason. She’d never have risked getting on the wrong side of Drew’s temper again, or damaging the reputation of her favourite band. Drew had a point, though. If neither of us, or Michael, had talked to the press, there was nobody else left but hospital staff who had the full story. Even Derek didn’t know everything yet.

“That’s a sackable offence.” Also another reason not to think Natalie blabbed. Someone recently-ish qualified wouldn’t risk throwing her hard work away for a few quid.

“Yeah. Not a big problem when they choose to be anonymous.”

I nodded towards the salivating journalists at the hospital doors. “How are we supposed to get through that lot?”

“Quickly, and heads down.”

I gave him a small smile. “Are you ready?”

He shook his head, and I touched his lips with mine. “I’ll be with you the whole time. I promise.”

“I know.”

Those words held so much. Worry, relief, gratitude. Drew pressed his cheek against mine. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

After a minute or two, Drew slowly straightened up. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

He hopped out of the car to pay the extortionate parking fee, and when he’d firmly placed the ticket in the window, I got out too, locking up behind me. With one last look at each other to check we really were ready, Drew wrapped his arm around me, pinning me to his side. Heads pointed to the ground, we walked quickly towards the entrance.

“Hey, there he is!”

Bright flashes hit my eyes, though I hadn’t looked up. Hands grabbed, elbows jostled, shouts of, “Drew!” and, “What can you tell us about Jason?” and, “Is it true he overdosed on cocaine?” assaulted my ears. We reached the automatic doors relatively unscathed, and tumbled through, like a particularly rough game of British Bulldog, while the hospital security pushed the journalists back.

“Don’t turn around,” Drew said, as flashes continued to go off behind us. “Keep walking.”

As we headed to the ICU, where Jason would stay until he was well enough to be transferred to a ward, Drew fell silent again, clinging to my hand.

Michael greeted us with a smile, a dramatic difference to the way he’d met us several hours before. He was clearly exhausted, but the happiness on his face knowing Jason would be okay helped disguise the dark circles under his eyes.

“Morning,” he said as we approached.

“Good morning,” I answered. “How are you?”

He let out a heavy sigh. “Much better than last night. Thanks for getting here so quickly.”

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