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Weak ass, stupid Dr. fucking Brighton.
She knows I won't back down—that I'll keep giving her shit until I find out if Sorrell is okay—so she has someone call mymom?? Fucking pathetic.
Finally, at nine pm, Gaynor bustles through the double doors that lead into the ICU, and I can tell something’s happened. The dark shadows underneath the nurse’s eyes are far worse than they were yesterday. Unlike Dr Brighton, Gaynor hasn't slept. She hasn't even gone home to freshen up. I thank every star in the sky for this woman, who has waited by Sorrell's side, even though her shift ended hours ago. She may like look crap, but at least…wait. She’s smiling?
“What is it? Has something happened?” My voice cracks, but I’m too anxious to be embarrassed.
Gaynor sheds exhausted tears as she pulls me into a hug. “Nothing short of a miracle, sweetheart. Nothing short of a miracle.”
30
SORRELL
THREE YEARS AGO
Snowflakes dance in the air, hovering as if suspended there by magic. New York City has been a winter tempest for the past four days, and Theo and I have been stuck indoors, staying warm beneath our blanket, watching back-to-back Marvel movies. Now that the blizzard that seemed so set on ruining our trip has broken, we've bundled ourselves up in the thickest jackets we can find and ventured out into the world, on a mission for coffee.
Massive winter boots; thick, bright pink mittens; a multicolored scarf; I can barely see Theo underneath the weird, mismatched array of warm clothes he’s wearing. He spins on me, narrowing his eyes at me over the top of his scarf. “You’d better not be laughing at my outfit, Voss,” he growls.
“Wouldn't dream of it,” I tell him, stifling back a snicker. “I think you look very cute. Very prepared for your surroundings. There's nothing sexier than a man who knows how to dress for the weather.”
“Knew I should have worn that mankini,” he grouses. “How are you supposed to think I’m hot when you can’t even see my ass properly?”
“Oh, I can see your ass just fine, and it's still soaking wet!” Theo slipped and landed on his ass not two steps out the front door of the Brownstone we’ve been staying in. He tried to laugh it off, but I think it actually hurt. I promised to kiss it better when we get back, which I’m pretty sure he’s looking forward to, though. Pulling a face at me, he grabs my arm and threads it through his, yanking me playfully to his side.
“If I go down again, you’re coming with me,” he says.
“Happily,” I agree. “Always. Wouldn’t have it any other way.” I check the time on my cellphone; it’s only midday.
Clouds of fog bloom like flowers made of smoke as we head across Brooklyn, giggling like idiots and clinging onto each other for dear life when we nearly slip on patches of ice.
“We’ve passed eight cafes, Kid. Why the hell do we have to walk halfway across the city to get a coffee?” Theo complains.
“Because I said so.” I grin at him cheekily. “Also, the coffee at this place was Uncle Ray’s favorite.” Uncle Ray, with his wiry grey moustache, and his fifteen pairs of brown corduroy pants, and his obsession for going out to grab a copy of The New York Times every morning, without fail, even though he never,everread it. A pang of sadness washes over me at the thought of him. When Mom and Dad died, moving across the country to stay with a man I barely knew seemed like the end of the world. It didn’t take long to warm to him, though. He was funny and eccentric; his quirkiness endeared me to him almost immediately. I still laugh over the fact that the man had tenure at one of the most prestigious colleges in the country and still couldn’t figure out how to the use the TV remote.
Theo squeezes my arm, nudging me with his shoulder. He’s always been so good at reading my mood. “You miss him,” he says. “Fine. If we have to cross the Arctic Circle to order a coffee at Uncle Ray’s favorite coffee shop, then so be it!”
We reach the coffee shop thirty minutes later. Miraculously, neither of us have fallen again, but our toes are numb and there’s a chance we both have frostbitten noses. When the waitress brings us our coffee, Theo takes one sip of his and nearly spits it across the table. “Fuck me, Voss, that’sterrible.”
“I know,” I say, grimacing as I take a sip from my own mug; the ink-black liquid inside tastes and smells like burnt hair. “I said it was Uncle Ray’s favorite. I didn’t say it wasgood.”
Theo’s eyebrows rise. “We passedsomany Starbucks.” He winces again as he manfully swallows down another mouthful of the coffee.
I check my watch again. Twelve forty-three.
“That's, like, the fourth time you've checked your watch since we woke up this morning, Voss. You got somewhere to be?”
I bite the tip of my tongue, grinning. “No. I just don’t want to get caught outside after dark is all. It’s gonna start snowing again.”
He looks at me like I’m crazy. “We have plenty of daylight left, Kid.”
The coffee we punish our way through tastes awful but it’s as strong as fuck. We’re cracked out and loopy when we leave. Theo lobs a snowball at me as we’re crossing a road, and very quickly we’re embroiled in a full-blown snowball fight that four other passersby randomly join in on, too. We’re almost back to the Brownstone, laughing breathlessly, cheeks raw from the cold, when Theo grabs me by the arm and drags me toward a bodega. Rather than selling pretzels and hot dogs, this particular bodega sells tourist trinkets: mini ‘Statue of Liberty’s; ‘I HEART NYC’ t-shirts; Empire State Building key chains; a million different snow globes.
“Don’t look. I’m getting you a gift.”
“I lived here, Theo! I don’t need a souvenir!” I laugh.
Theo grabs my mittened hands and slaps them over my eyes. “Do as your told.”
