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“Don’t tell me what to do,” I shouted, then snapped my mouth closed.
Undeterred by my outburst, he dropped into the chair next to me, tore off a piece of the sandwich, and held it to my lips.
I shook my head like a toddler who wouldn’t eat their vegetables. “I can’t. Not when Penelope is—”
“She needs your strength. If you don’t eat, you can’t help her.”
I nibbled on the small piece. “You haven’t eaten either,” I pointed out petulantly.
He tore off a giant bite of the sandwich and chewed.
Marlow took in the scene with guarded eyes. Something told me she knew about loss. There was a familiarity in her gaze.
Patrick tossed his phone on the table. “Another specialist will review Penelope’s charts. He spoke in a language I couldn’t really follow, but I think he does some sort of internal medicine practice.”
“How many have you talked to?” I asked, gingerly taking another bite. I chewed, but didn’t taste anything.
“We have six neurologists who are reviewing the charts remotely. Two pulmonologists.” Kane spouted off the stats easily.
What would I do without him here?
He was devastated, yet strong enough to push through it to fight for Penelope. I, on the other hand, was an absolute mess.
“When can we see her?” I whispered.
The doctor who’d spoken to us earlier had checked in again to let us know Penelope was still with us. Other than that, there wasn’t much to report.
But that was enough.
As long as she was breathing, there was hope.
Alma.
Could she really be responsible for this?
The woman who’d barged in and demanded money most definitely seemed capable. But Penelope was her flesh and blood. Even if she didn’t consider her a daughter, she’d carried her. Given her life.
Now was she trying to take it away?
How did getting rid of Penelope give her what she wanted . . . whatever that was?
My stomach cramped. I pushed the sandwich away. “Thank you,” I said. “But I just can’t.”
Marlow nodded. “It was worth a shot.”
I appreciated that she didn’t sugarcoat things. She hadn’t once said everything will be okay or told me how to feel.
“You should go to the house,” I said. “The kids have to be exhausted.”
“Dad and Mrs. Quinn are on their way to pick them up. We’ll stick around as long as you need us.” Marlow stroked Blake’s hair. He was peacefully sleeping in her lap.
“They can stay at our house so they don’t have to drive back. I’m pretty sure the keys are in the front door.” I met the other woman’s gaze. “And you don’t have to stay.”
“That’s what friends are for.” She tilted her head. “Although, you probably won’t like me when I force-feed you if you don’t eat.”
Patrick pulled off his tie and sank down in a chair. He’d been on the phone as much as Kane. “I talked to the local PD. A witness said one cinder block flew off the back of a truck carrying a load of them. There’s no way one miraculously came off by itself, but they didn’t see anyone throw it.”
“There are people all over that highway.” Kane yanked on his hair. “How could no one have seen anything?”
