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Holy fuck, River…
“He’s also sustained fractures to his left arm and clavicle. But monitoring his concussion is our first priority.” The doctor turned to me. “I understand you were in the truck with River?”
I nodded. “It flipped. He was trying not to hit a deer, and the truck flipped.”
He wouldn’t have been on the road at all if not for me.
“You’re both very lucky, all things considered.”
I could’ve laughed. Or cried.
Dr. Stansfield touched my shoulder. “Are you all right, son? Has someone checked you out?”
I moved out from under his touch. “I’m fine.”
“Can we see him?” Jerry asked.
“We’re taking River for an MRI to determine the extent of the bleed, any damage and swelling. That will help determine any long-term effects or issues. I’ll take you to the ICU waiting area. When the tests are over, you can see him.”
“Thank you.” Jerry turned to me. “Coming, Holden?”
“Now hold on,” Dowd said. He was even uglier in the light of the hospital; bulky, with flat eyes. “This guy’s been doing some underage drinking. That’s not nothing.”
Tran held up a hand. “Do you have toxicology on River?” he asked Stansfield.
“Negative for narcotics and blood alcohol was 0.0.”
Tran nodded, his lips pressed together in a thin line, thinking. “Seems like you’ve had a pretty rough night,” he said to me. “I’m going to let you off with a warning. Take better care of yourself, okay?”
I nodded and wordlessly followed Jerry and the doctor. I had to see for myself that River was alive. Somewhere behind me, Dowd was arguing with Tran, but the elevator shut, cutting him off.
I hung back while they talked, wondering when Jerry was going to whirl around, grip me by the throat, and demand to know what I’d done to his son.
In the ICU waiting room, Jerry sat on one side and I sat across from him. He called someone named Dazia.
“No news yet. They’re doing an MRI. We’ll know soon. How is Nancy?”
I shut my eyes, hugging myself tight, and dozed.
“Holden?”
I jerked my eyes open. Jerry was smiling at me. “You must be tired. I was just asking how you know River. Not football?” he said, taking in my silver hair and my ruined?
??but expensive—boots.
“Not football.” I closed my coat to conceal I was wearing River’s tuxedo jacket. “I know him from…Calculus.”
Jerry nodded and then a thought struck him. He frowned. “In all the commotion, I wasn’t thinking but… River went to Prom with Violet. Why was he out on that road and not with her?”
“He was saving my life.”
Jerry sat back in his chair, confusion coloring his expression. “Well…that sounds like my River. He’s probably told you, but his mom is sick. Very sick. She doesn’t have much time, to be honest. And this…” He shook his head, pressed his lips together for a moment. “Losing her is hard enough. But if something happens to River…”
If something happens to River, it’s all my fault.
Mercifully, Jerry stopped trying to talk to me and flipped through magazines. Hours that felt like years passed, and finally Dr. Stanfield returned.
“Good news,” he said. “The MRI shows that River’s brain bleed is contained. The swelling is minimal. We have to continue to monitor his situation but for now, it would appear that he doesn’t require surgery.”
