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I force my aching body to move over Mark’s lifeless corpse and lie on the floor next to Devon, resting my head on his chest. I squeeze my eyes shut as fingers run through my hair, and Devon says softly, “It’s all over now. It’s going to be okay.”
Still unable to speak, I lie there and wait. I don’t think much time goes by before Jeff comes back and announces they’re sending an ambulance and the police are on their way. I don’t move—not until the lights from the sirens are streaming through the windows and police are coming through the ajar door with guns drawn, ordering us to put our hands in the air. I sit up and do what they asked, but Devon doesn’t move. I watch them cuff his dad and march him out the door before the paramedics wheel in a stretcher. They move Devon onto a backboard, and a female police officer kneels beside me and asks me if I’m hurt.
I nod. I’ve been hurt, and I want to go with Devon. Ihaveto go with Devon.
Another paramedic joins her at my side.
“What’s your name, Sweetheart?” the woman says.
But nothing comes out. I still can’t form words.
“Can you stand?” she asks.
I nod and reach for her with shaking hands.
“I need a space blanket over here!” she yells out the front door.
She covers me with a metallic-looking blanket, then she and the officer help me to my feet, supporting me on either side. They lead me into the back of the ambulance. With Devon.
Another paramedic straps me onto a bench seat, and I look at my boyfriend, whose eyes are closed and skin is so pale it almost looks green, and sob.
“He’s just sleeping,” the paramedic tells me. “His vitals are really good, considering all the blood he’s lost. His lungs are still strong. He’s going to be okay.”
I allow myself to relax just a little as the tears continue to fall. Someone gives me a shot of something on the way to the hospital, and the rest of the night is kind of a blur.
I wake up in a white room, the sun streaming through the windows. I hear footsteps behind me and whip around, ready to attack the source.
“Whoa,” a nurse says. “Take it easy. You’re awake, that’s good. Ally Hargrove, right?”
“Yes,” I say, surprised when I hear my own voice again. “Where is he? Where’s Devon?”
“He’s in the ICU. He needed surgery, and he’s still sleeping. You can’t see him right now, but he’s going to be okay. Okay?”
“Can I…can I leave?” I ask.
“The police need to talk to you before we can discharge you, and you’ll need to be checked out by a doctor, but I’ll let them know you’re awake, and we’ll see if we can get you out of here today. How are you feeling? We’ve got you on something for the pain from the broken ribs, but does it hurt anywhere else? How is your vision?”
“Um, it’s fine. I feel okay. I don’t feel any worse than I did before.”
“Okay, good. That’s good. Are you hungry?” she asks.
The mention of food makes my stomach rumble. “Yes.”
“Do you like sausage and eggs?”
“I like everything,” I tell her.
“Okay, I’ll order you some breakfast, and we’ll get a doctor in here as soon as possible and see what we can do for you, okay?”
I nod, and she flashes me a smile before leaving the room.
I look out the window at the bare trees and the sun streaming in, and everything looks and feels different. I’ll be able to check out of the hospital today, and then I wonder where I’ll go. It occurs to me that…I can go wherever I want. I don’t have to be afraid anymore. I’mfree.
Everythingisdifferent.
I drop my head into my hands and laugh—and it’s a kind of laugh that consumes me, one that I can’t make sense of, and it onlymakes me laugh harder. It hurts my ribs, but I can’t bring myself to stop. Minutes go by like this until someone comes in with a tray of food, and I do my best to stifle myself.
“Knock, knock,” a woman calls in a sing-song tone. “Ally Hargrove? I’m Cristina. I come bearing breakfast.”
