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I approach her slowly, but it’s Luke who speaks first. “Do you remember what happened?“
“It was so weird,“ she says, closing her eyes. Tears slide down her face, but she tilts her chin up, and her jaw hardens. She obviously doesn’t like to cry. Maybe this is what her mom was referring to when she said she wasn’t well. “I was just driving away when everything started to go crazy,“
Misha and Luke look at each other, but neither one of them says anything. I wait. I'm sure she's going to say something else. She doesn't. I think she might be afraid of crying.
I take a step toward her. “Do you want to talk about it?“
She swallows. “What is there to talk about?“ she asks, then shakes her head. She grimaces when she does, in pain. “Is everybody else okay?“
“Yeah,“ I reply. “You're the one who was most seriously hurt. And you're going to be okay.“
“Are you sure?“ she asks.
I want to wrap my arms around her and reassure her that everything’s going to be okay. “About what? You being okay, or the other people?“
“Both,“ Trine answers.
“I’m sure.” I answer.
“How can you be sure?“
“Well, you’re talking, and you don’t appear to need surgery,“ I say. “I don’t think you even have a concussion. Honestly, there’s every chance the doctors are being overly cautious.“
“They are?“ she asks. For the first time since I walked in, she sounds like herself.
“Yes,“ I say.
“And you were the only one who left in an ambulance,“ Misha says. “Everyone else just walked away from the accident.“
That time, she does actually cry, and she doesn’t hold herself back. “Fuck, thank God,“ she says. “I was so worried I’d seriously hurt someone. Who was in the other cars?“
“A couple in the van in front of you, just a man in the car right behind you,“ Misha says. We know that because we watched them all be attended to before we followed the ambulance to the hospital. “They seemed a little shaken, but like I said, they were totally fine.“
“Thank you,“ Trine says, then her gaze flits between the three of us. “Wait, are you three okay?“
Luke laughs. “Why?“
“Because you look like shit.“
I laugh. “Yeah, we were worried about you,“ I say.
“You look worse,“ Misha says.
“Rude,“ she replies, laughing. “Do you know when I’ll get out of here?“
“Hard to know without talking to your doctor,“ I reply. “But I don’t think they’ll do anything but keep you overnight.“
“Okay, good,“ she replies. “Thank you guys. For being here, for…for all of this.“
“We aren’t doing anything,“ Misha says.
“We’ll be here for you as long as you want us to be.“ Luke says.
“They’re both right,“ I smile as I approach her. I stand at her bedside and hold her hand in mine. Her skin is cold and she wraps her fingers around mine, gripping my fingers tightly.
“What about the car?“ she asks. “I was…I mean, it was bad. Right?“
Misha answers her. “It was. But it's just a car. Your mom didn't say anything about it, did she?“
