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She laughs flatly. “I can see that.”
“Why are you up here?” Cormac asks.
“Because my children have been left unsupervised, and I wanted to know why.”
He snaps, “Have you heard of knocking? And the kids are napping—
A scream stabs the air, making the three of us jump. They race downstairs, while I wrap a sheet around myself. The scream had come from outside, so I look out the bedroom window. Franny is on the ground, clutching her ankle and crying, while Aiden is on top of the trampoline, screaming for his father.
My worst nightmare.
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32
Cormac
The bright hospital lights burn the image of Aiden’s teary face into my soul. To my surprise, he’s been quiet since they took Franny back for the X-rays. Abigail went with her for it, so she wouldn’t be scared, and Aiden stayed with me in the pediatric waiting area.
There’s brightly colored murals of children playing on the walls, but he won’t look at them. He just stares at the tv, eyes welling and occasionally spilling over. When I tried to comfort him, he barely said a word. So I let him have some quiet time for now.
Upon Abigail’s return, though, he rushes to her and throws his arms around her waist. She pets his head and tells him, “Franny’s going to be alright, little man.”
I’m on my feet fast. “What did they say?”
“Nothing yet. It was just the radiology tech in there with me. I’m still hoping it’s just sprained, but I doubt it. She says she landed on a rock and her ankle snapped when it twisted.”
My knotted stomach flips. “Where is she now?”
“Uh—
The tech wheels Franny out to the hallway with us, and a nurse comes by immediately. He squats in front of Franny and asks, “Would you like to see your room?”
Her frail, cracking voice does me in. “Yes, please.”
He smiles at her, then says, “If you’ll follow me,” before wheeling her down the hall a few doors to her room.
I’m grateful it’s a single occupancy room—I do not know how long she’ll be here, but the thought of sharing a room right now is dreadful. The nurse transfers her to the bed and after getting her comfortable, he asks if he can bring her anything.
“Can I have a juice?”
“Cranberry, apple, grape—
“Yes, please.”
He chuckles. “I’ll bring a variety.” Then he leaves us with her.
Aiden takes her hand in his. “I’m sorry, Franny.”
But she’s as confused as we are and asks, “Why?”
That question breaks him, and he blubbers. I kneel next to him. “Buddy, what’s wrong? You didn’t push her, right?”
“No!” he squeaks. Between sniffles, he says, “It’s my fault. I was the last one on the trampoline. I know I’m supposed to close the Velcro door behind me, but I wanted to play and I didn’t think it was gonna be bad if I left it. It’s all my fault!” He throws himself against me, sobbing.
I pat his back. “It was an accident, Aiden. You screwed up, but it was still an accident.”
Abigail quietly simmers out the words, “You’renot at fault, Aiden. You’re not an adult.” Her glare could cut me if I let it.
