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Her tone is cool when she says, "That is confidential. We don’t give out employee information."
I rub my upper arms and fight the urge to find Rhys in the back. I can do this. "I don’t need information on her.I know her name. I just want to talk to her." I’m not asking for her social security number, just to tell me where to find my nurse.
For a second, I think Nina will help me, but then her gaze flickers to the clock on the side wall, and she repeats again, "I’m sorry, I can’t help you."
I’m dismissed. "Please, I—"
I’m ready to plead when two hands land on my shoulder. "Thank you for your time."
What? I turn my head to argue with Rhys, but his expression leaves no room for negotiation. Without another word, he places a hand on my lower back and steers me out into the hallway.
My eyes start to gloss over. We’ve wasted three days in the car for nothing. We’re back to square one. Here comes the waterfall.
I’m so tired of crying.
I guideLilly toward the food court I saw on the map I studied during our quick lunch stop this afternoon. This outcome was a possibility, but nothing had prepared me for the defeat on her face.
She doesn’t say anything and lets me lead her to a booth. The bright-red linoleum upholstery and yellow tables are out of place for a hospital. Someone either tried to make this place bright and happy and failed miserably, or they stole the furniture from the McDonalds down the street. Either way, the whole vibe is fucking disturbing.
Lilly stares at her hands, and I grab us two waters and a Coke before settling into the seat across from her.
We sit like this for half an hour. She’s in her head, and I wait. There is no point in forcing a conversation. She’s dealing.
Our relationship has changed in the last twenty-four hours. It’s grown beyond what it used to be—before I turned into an asshole on her. I don’t know what we are or what she feels toward me, but my urge to protect her has reached a new high. The strong and confident fighter let me see her vulnerability last night. She asked for my comfort. Even when I first stopped talking to her, she never let me see how much I had hurt her. Her recalling her memory immediately caused a red haze to form over my eyes. How could anyone have done this to an innocent child? And she wanted me. Me! Her words were like continuous front kicks in the gut. She’s right; there was nothing I could’ve done, but still—what would you feel if the girl you love tells you that shit? I need to do something to help her—or at least try.
After she still hasn’t said anything thirty minutes later, I come to a decision. "Be right back."
I make out a small nod from her and add, "Keep your phone on you, okay?"
Another head bob.
Okay then.
I leavethe food court and walk back to the department we left earlier. The lights are off, and the doors are locked. So much for giving that another try.
Next, I head to the emergency department. Thankfully, it’s a slow evening. Otherwise, I probably wouldn’t have found anyone to talk to. I approach a younger nurse in blue scrubs that comes out of the nurses’ station.
"Excuse me?"
Her eyes are glued to a piece of paper in one hand, and she’s scribbling on it with the other. How people can do that while walking amazes me. I can’t write one freaking word without a stable surface underneath. When she realizes I’m talking to her, her eyebrows shoot up, and she slowly scans me up and down. Yup, I’m aware of the effect I have on females, which was another reason I approached her instead of the older nurse that’s on her heels. No, I’m not arrogant. It’s just how it’s always been. It’s not like I use it to my advantage—well, except for maybe right now.
"Can I help you?"
Deep breath. "Yes, uh..."—I glance at her embroidered nametag—"Beth, hi. My name is Rhys McGuire. I was wondering if I could ask you a quick question?" Do I need to give her my name? Nope. But I learned a long time ago that when you want to gain something from a conversation, bringing it to a personal level helps. Having an attorney for a mother has taught me a trick or two.
"Is this regarding a patient?" Her tone is wary, and the older nurse is now right behind Beth. I focus on Beth and try to be as charming, yet not creepy, as possible.
"No, well—actually yes. You see, my sister was in this hospital a long time ago, and we came here to talk to the nurse that took care of her back then. It’s a long story, but my sister doesn’t remember much from that time, and we just found out the nurse’s name, and we wanted to talk to her." I’m rambling. "Her name is Madeline Cross—the nurse, not my sister—anyway, do you know her? I tried the patient services place on the second floor, but they’re closed."
No need to tell her they already said no.
Both nurses’ eyes resemble manholes; neither probably expected me to deliver such a speech. The older nurse stares at me but clears her throat to give Beth a hint.
Beth jumps at the sound. "Oh, uh..." She turns around and locks eyes with the other woman before she faces me again. "I’m sorry, I’m not familiar with that name. I’ve only been here for two years and..." She trails off when understanding hits that she shouldn’t even have told me that.
Well, fuck, but it was worth a try. I thank her and turn back the way I came. I don’t want to leave Lilly alone for too long, otherwise, I would scour more units and ask around. They’d probably kick me out at some point, but I’d do anything to helpmy girl.
Lilly is stillin her seat when I slide into the red clown bench across from her.
