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CHAPTERFIVE
POPPY
A blaring ringing pushes through the fog of my dreams.
“What the hell.” I groan out as I blindly swat around on my nightstand, trying to find and stop the ringing. My annoyance becomes even more intense when I realize that I’m not going to be able to just hit the off button on my phone since it’s all the way on the other side of the room. I’m going to have to walk over there and get it.
“Damn it!” I fling the covers off and storm over to my dresser, where my phone is. Who the hell calls at this time anyway? I was getting some good sleep. I look down at the screen, ready to curse anyone on the line out until I see it, Corentina. She’d never call me this early. She knows what time I get home. Unless, of course, there was some sort of emergency.
I swipe accept on the phone call, and any remaining fatigue I might have had disappears as I put my phone to my ear.
“Hello? Cor? What’s wrong?” I hold my breath as I wait for the bad news.
“Shh, it’s okay. Nothing’s wrong. Everything is alright,” she says, but her voice cracks badly as if she’s trying to hold back a torrent of tears.
“Bull, why do you sound like you’re going to cry then? Just tell me what it is.”
My mind is racing through thoughts of what could possibly be so bad that she’s this hesitant to tell me.
“Poppy, I swear to you that it’s not bad, but it’s jarring. I don’t want you to faint or anything like that.”
Now my interest is piqued. What would be so shocking that she’d think I’d faint. “I’ll be fine. I’m sitting down.” I lie so she can just tell me what it is.
“Okay, well, I have good news. We found Tristan. He’s alive.”
Her words echo in my ears, and I stumble backward slightly as my body screams for oxygen. My head spins, and I have to lean against my dresser to keep myself from falling exactly like she thought I would.
“What?” I squeak out. I must be hallucinating, or maybe I’m still sleeping? If so, this is the worst nightmare I’ve had in a long time.
Tears fall down my cheeks, and I curse my psyche for torturing me like this.
“Why are you doing this? It’s not true. It’s not true,” I mutter over and over, completely ignoring the voice of Corentina on the phone. Until she screams my name loud enough to break through the hysteria I’m in.
“Hmm?” I answer.
“Poppy, you’re not dreaming. It’s not a lie. He’s at the hospital right now. He was found in a warehouse near the river. In an old shoe factory, there was a big fire, and the firefighters found him inside. He’s beaten up pretty bad, but he’s alive, Poppy.” Her voice is strong and sure. I suck in a cleansing breath.
This is real? Tristan’s alive!
“Oh my god! He’s alive? Really?” I cry and press the phone tighter to my ear. “Where is he? Where?” I’m desperate to find out the information and get over to him as fast as I can.
Corentina tells me all the information she knows about what happened and the hospital that he’s at, but I barely let her say goodbye before I hang up. I rush through my room, throwing on the first thing my hands touch. I don’t want to get my hopes up because I have a feeling I’m going to get to the hospital, and there’s going to be some great big mistake, or I’m going to have been pranked called by someone. I just have a feeling that this isn’t going to be what I want it to be.
As I pull up into the parking lot of the hospital, I see Remy’s car. My heartbeat stutters, and that small kernel of hope inside of me has turned into a budding rose. I run straight into the hospital and dash to the elevators, but I’m stopped by a large security guard.
“Ma’am, you can’t go upstairs now.” He puts a hand out to stop my forward progression.
“What? I have to get upstairs. It’s an emergency!” I spit out.
“I understand,” he says with false sympathy, “Is the patient in the emergency room?”
“No!” I grit out.
“Is the patient in surgery?” the guard asks, tilting his head to the side.
“No. Damn it! He’s on the fourth floor. They just brought him in today.” I do my best to explain to the irritating man why I need to get upstairs, but he doesn’t budge.
“Well, are you family?” he asks, and I can’t help the groan that comes out of my mouth.
