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"I know," I say, grateful to her for saying it because she's right. There isn't a single person in this world I trust more with Scout than I trust Tate. I just wish Jules would hurry and call with another update. It's been at least an hour and half, maybe longer.
"Cash told me what happened to your sister," Hadley says. "I'm so sorry, Samara."
"Thank you," I whisper.
"When Scout is better, if you'd like, we'd like to do something to honor her…I mean, if that's okay with you," she hurries to add. "What she did was really incredible, you know? I know you didn't really get a chance to celebrate her life the way you deserve to celebrate her. We want to help you do that. If it's okay?" She chews on her bottom lip like she's worried she may have overstepped and I'm going to freak out.
"I'd like that," I whisper around the lump in my throat as emotion courses through me. Siobhan's funeral was a sad, rushed affair. It was me, Troian, a preacher, and the detective assigned to her case. There was no time for the celebration she deserved, but I planned to do something more fitting after Scout was okay. If Hadley and Tate's brothers want to help, I'm not going to tell them no. It's a touching gesture. Aside from Tate, they're the first people I've met who haven't immediately assumed the worst about her.
That realization makes me squirm. For a week and a half, I've been so upset whenever doctors looked down their noses at me, silently judging Siobhan without knowing her story. They assumed the worst about her without even knowing what she went through, without knowingher. But I did the exact same thing to Tate and his brothers.
"I'm such a hypocrite," I say, feeling about two inches tall.
Hadley looks at me in question.
"I was…a jerk about MCs," I admit, staring at my hands. "I judged them so harshly after what happened to Siobhan. But you guys have been so good to me and Scout. Tate has been so good to us."
"You aren't a hypocrite," Hadley says, squeezing my hand again. "You lost your sister, Samara. You're allowed to be angry and frightened and confused. Anyone would be. Despite everything, you still gave Tate a chance. You still gave us a chance. That takes courage."
"I don't feel very brave," I mutter. Right now, I feel the exact opposite of brave.
"I know a certain surgeon who would beg to differ," she says, grinning at me.
Before I can respond, the door to the waiting room opens.
My breath stalls in my throat.
Tate steps into the room, dressed in scrubs, a green cap on his head, matching green booties on his feet. His emerald eyes immediately come to me, his expression somber. I can't tell if it's good news or bad news.
I jump to my feet. I don't think my heart even beats on my way across the room to him.
He meets me halfway.
Complete silence permeates the room. The only sound is the loud thud of my heart.
"She's okay, angel," Tate says as soon as I stop in front of him. "She's okay."
My legs give out beneath me, the weight of the world falling from my shoulders.
Tate catches me before I hit the floor, dragging me into his arms.
I cling to him, sobbing in relief.
Chapter Nine
Tate
"Samara,"Iwhisper,brushingstrands of hair away from her face. "Wake up, Sleeping Beauty."
"No," she whines, her bottom lip poking out. "It's too early, Tate. Make rounds at a normal person hour for once."
I chuckle, running my fingertips down the side of her face. "Scout's already awake, angel."
She cracks one sleepy eye open, her expression rife with suspicion. "Are you just saying that to get me out of bed?"
"Is it working?" I fight a smile.
"Maybe."
