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Maybe he was tired. Last night, she’d slept on the stretcher he’d brought in for her, but he’d been quite uncomfortable on his chair, and had hardly closed his eyes all night. Yet this morning, he’d brought her breakfast.
Was he upset by Tyron’s presence? She frowned, recalling the two men’s affable attitudes. They’d shaken hands, had talked about Mia, both concerned about her health and progress. Matt had immediately agreed that Tyron had done the right thing in coming, and he hadn’t protested when she’d shared that she’d invited Mia’s father to stay at the house.
Then, what was bothering him? Maybe stress, concern for Mia. She understood they were all going through that and reacting in their own different ways. She, crying or complaining, Tyron withdrawing into a silent cocoon, and Matt diving into work to forget his main worry. As a psychologist, she’d seen how people fought to maintain their sanity when hit with a disaster.
When she stepped back into Mia’s room, her daughter had already drifted off under the effects of her medication. There was nothing she could do for her now but let her rest.
As she collected her handbag, someone knocked on the door.
“Emily, what are you doing here?”
“Can I see Mia, please? I’m so worried about her.” Emily tiptoed to the bed, her eyes widening. “Oh. My. God. Mia…”
“She can’t talk to you. You’d better leave.”
The girl lowered her head, tears rolling down her face. “I’m so sorry, Mia. So sorry.”
She ran out and collided with the detective.
A headache pounding in her temples, Brenda signaled to Tyron. “We’d better follow Dr. Winston’s medical advice, go home, rest, and come back this evening.”
He nodded and collected his jacket. “I left my car in the parking lot.”
“Good. Going with you.”
Last night, Matt had driven here directly from the Aronoff Center. She gave Tyron the directions to her house and opened the garage for him to park his car next to hers.
“Can I use the guest room as usual?”
“Yes.”
He’d stayed at her house before when picking up Mia for their father-daughter vacations.
Not bothering to walk him to the room he knew, she surveyed her living room. Less than twenty-four hours ago, she’d stood in this room, ready for a fabulous date, welcoming Matt’s kisses, sharing pictures of Mia, radiating with joy in her lovely dress. She’d been on top of the world, embracing happiness with both arms, with the two people she loved the most, Mia and Matt.
Everything had crumbled. The life she’d carefully built for herself and her daughter had shattered in a matter of minutes. As it had ten years ago. Mia was in a hospital bed and Tyron back here with her.
Sobs wracked her body. Where was Matt when she needed him so badly? When she wanted to snuggle against his strong body?
Gentle arms wrapped around her and pulled her against a familiar chest. Not the one she missed. Yet she sobbed against his chest, knowing that he too was suffering.
“Things will improve, Brendy sweetie.”
She couldn’t smile at the nickname Tyron had given her when they were growing up. How often had he soothed her with these exact words? But she wasn’t a kid or a teenager anymore, and he’d hurt her after promising to protect her.
“Go to bed, Brendy. I’ll get you an Advil to calm your headache.” A moment later, he sat on the edge of her bed and handed her a glass of water and a pill. “Sleep now. I’ll set my alarm for six.”
“Thank you, Tyron.”
“We’ll get our baby out of this mess, I promise, and I know Matt will help.”
She closed her eyes, picturing Mia and Matt as she’d seen them last night.
True to his word, Tyron woke her at six and brought her a cup of tea and a sandwich.
“You need to eat. We don’t want you to get dizzy.”
At the hospital, they didn’t find Mia in her room. Brenda panicked, rushing to the nurses’ station. “Where’s my daughter? What happened?” she cried.
