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Allison’s eyes shifted to her father and the wires and tubes tracing up and around his body. Somehow, attached to someone she knew, the equipment looked alien and threatening. Her fingers itched to tear at the wires and break the monitors.
Instead, she held herself perfectly still. Refusing to blink, she let her mind map her father in that bed, bearing witness to his illness. Preparing for whatever happened next. Though her tongue was heavy with words, none of them were meant to be whispered in the dark. They were words for screaming throats raw, for being muddled by tears. They demanded to be heard, to be taken in, to be reckoned with. When Allison finally spoke, Jed would be fully conscious.
Which was why, when her mother returned ten minutes later, Allison had still not said a thing.
“Promise me you’ll sleep when you get home,” her mom said, patting Allison’s hand, hooked in the crook of her elbow.
Now that the anticipation of seeing Jed had passed, exhaustion had slammed into her. “That is a promise I can keep,” she mumbled through a yawn.
They exited the elevator onto the main floor, their steps in tandem, the way their lives had always been. Though Allison hadn’t lived athome regularly in almost five years, they were still a team, a unit, the two of them permanently intertwined.
The hallway leading to the lobby was dim and empty, their footsteps’ echoes hammering the silence.
“After I drop you off, I’m going to head back here. I’ll call you if anything changes, but his heart rate is slowing enough that I think he is out of the most dangerous territory.”
Allison nodded. Relief, regret, and apathy had formed a painful knot in her chest. Her mother would expect her to return to the hospital in a few hours, and on Sunday and Monday too, playing the dutiful daughter. But if Jed was going to be fine, then Allison was ready to leave. She couldn’t pretend the last twenty-three years of her life hadn’t happened because Jed’s heart had decided to briefly malfunction.
The café and gift shop came into view as they rounded the corner, metal grates blocking the entrances. Across the way marched rows and rows of beige chairs flanked by coffee vending machines and end tables balancing stacks of magazines waiting for a new round of people to distract.
Only one wasn’t vacant, the occupant slouched near the exit with a cell phone angled close to his face. Its blue light painted the maroon frames of his glasses a searing red, and his knobby ankle, crossed over an equally knobby knee to expose a pair of white, cat-print socks, bounced nervously.
Allison’s heart froze. She’d been upstairs with her mother for at least an hour. Why was he still here? “Colin?”
In a blur, he was on his feet. “Hey.”
“What are you doing here?”
He smiled sheepishly. “I wanted to see how your father was.”
“I told you I’d let you know—”
He raised a finger to quiet her. “That’s the thing, you actually didn’t. You dove from the car”—he smacked his lips nervously, his gaze hopping to her mom at Allison’s shoulder—“after… you know… we got here.”
Thankfully, he didn’t mention their kiss. Obviously, it had been nothing but a knee-jerk response to a lethal combination of acute stress and too many bad beers, and Allison lacked the mental fortitude to explain that to her mother right now.
Her mother. She spun around. “Mom, you remember—”
Her hand was already reaching for Colin’s. “Cody!”
“Colin.”
“Right. Glasses boy.”
Allison shook her head. “Sure.”
She arched an eyebrow in apology, but Colin was too focused on her mother to notice. “I’ll happily answer to any and all of that.”
“Then I’m henceforth calling you Cody,” Allison declared.
He waved a hand. “Only your mom gets to give me pet names.”
Did it count as murder if a person was stabbed in a hospital? They’d probably save him in time, right? Allison considered doing a quick WCS for ending Colin right here in the lobby of Northern Light, but her mother interrupted her list.
“Is this your ride?”
“Yup.”
“I didn’t know you two were in contact again.” She was addressing Allison, but still held Colin’s hand. Apparently, this was some sort of quirk with Avery women.
