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“Okay.” She frowns for a second as if she’s running through all the possible scenarios in her head. “Sounds routine then. They probably want to check all their boxes. Were any of the girls drunk or high?” she asks with a bluntness bordering on offensive.
She doesn’t know my sister. I glance at Libby. “I don’t think so. Libby’s not into that. Her friend Mackenzie is more of a partier, but it was the middle of the afternoon. . . They were headed to the store for ice cream.”
All our chatter finally rouses Libby from sleep. She blinks her eyes open and stares at me with a fuzzy expression. “I have to pee.”
I burst out laughing. “Let me call the nurse.”
“What? Ew, no way.” Libby throws the covers back with her good arm, then groans.
“Careful,” Hope warns, hurrying to Libby’s side while I step into the hallway and flag down one of the nurses.
Once Libby’s back in bed, Hope glances at Trinity and tilts her head toward the door.
“I’m going to hit the vending machines,” Trinity says. “You want anything, Libby?”
Libby smacks her lips together a few times. “Some mouthwash,” she answers. She hadn’t seemed surprised or even asked what Trinity and Hope were doing there. How much of our conversations did she absorb?
“I’ll look,” Trinity promises, closing the door on her way out.
Hope bites her bottom lip and stares at me. “Honestly, if I’m going to represent Libby in anything, I need you to step out too.”
I blink and stare at her. She’s not screwing around. “Uh…I don’t think she needs a lawyer. She wasn’t the one driving or anything.”
“What are you talking about?” Libby asks us.
“Nothing.” I step up to the bed and brush my fingers against the back of her uninjured hand. “The police stopped by earlier. They want to ask you a few questions.”
Hope mutters some choice words under her breath. Something about cops having nothing better to do than harass teenage girls.
Libby’s frown deepens. “Why? We didn’t do anything wrong. The other guy hit us!”
“I know,” I soothe. “Easy. I’m pretty sure they’ll be routine questions they’d ask for any accident where there were injuries.”
I’m about to tell Hope I’ll wait in the hallway like she asked, when someone knocks on the door. I hurry over and open it. A different officer than the one who stopped by before waits on the other side. Behind me, I catch Hope’s voice quickly offering Libby advice to keep her answers short.
The officer nods to me. “Ms. Walker?”
“Emily, yes.” I step back, allowing him to enter. He seems to be alone. “Libby’s my sister. I’m her guardian.”
I don’t bother offering my hand for a shake and he doesn’t seem to care. “Officer Daniel Wade. I just want to ask Libby a few questions.”
“She just woke up and she’s still groggy from everything,” I say.
“I’ll only be a few minutes,” he insists. His gaze locks on Hope and he stares at her for a few seconds.
“And you are?” he asks.
“A friend of the family,” she answers smoothly. “Hope Kendall.”
Recognition seems to light up the cop’s face. “You’re Rock North’s girl, right?”
She holds up her left hand, flashing a stack of sparkling diamonds on her ring finger. “Wife, actually.”
“Ah, well. Congratulations.” He frowns. “You’re an attorney, aren’t you?”
“Good memory.” Hope nods. “But I’m just here as a friend this morning.” While she says it casually, she also parks her ass in one of the chairs next to Libby’s bed—signaling she has no plans to leave.
My chest squeezes. I’d had no idea what to do or say when the cops said they wanted to speak to Libby last night. It shouldn’t be a big deal. But I can’t help wanting to protect my sister. Having Hope watching over us settles some of my anxiety.
Libby stares at the cop warily, her nervous gaze darting to mine. I nod and force a quick smile meant to reassure her. She glances at Hope who offers an encouraging lift of her chin.
Officer Wade steps up to the bedside. “How’re you feeling, Libby?”
“Like I got hit by a truck,” she deadpans.
The officer blinks and stares at her with shock in his jaded eyes.
I squeeze my eyes shut for a second. Maybe we spend too much time on the dark end of the humor spectrum in our house.
The awkward silence lingers.
Libby’s face scrunches in pain. Her gaze drops to the cast on her arm and her bottom lip quivers. “I’ve never broken any bones before. They’re going to give someone else my part.” Tears fill her eyes.
I step up on the other side of the bed and rest my hand over the blanket covering her leg. “They might not. We’ll talk to the director. Right now let’s focus on getting you out of here.”
Officer Wade nods. “That cast’s gonna be a pain in the butt for a few weeks. But hopefully it heals quickly, and the cast comes off soon,” he says.
