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I take a seat in the hard chair next to her, my knee bouncing wildly. “Why is it taking so long?”
“She’s pushing a person out, Holden. It’s not exactly an easy, speedy process.”
“Right,” I mumble, sinking back in my chair.
Harrison is sitting across from us, looking more serious than I’ve ever seen him. He was already here when we arrived.
Sydney called him first, and I’m glad.
Another hour passes, with no news.
I slump deeper in the chair, exhausted despite the uncomfortable seating. Weeks of nonstop practice. The rush of winning. Finally getting to deck Dennis. Worry about Sydney.
I’m emotionally drained.
“Holden?”
I open my eyes to see Dr. Meyers standing in front of me.
His expression is grave as he stares at me, slumped and half-asleep.
There’s a sudden, sinking sensation in my stomach, some part of me knowing what he’s here to tell me before I hear the words.
He glances at Cassia, offering her a warm smile. Her expression is as concerned as mine, glancing between me and him. Probably wondering if he’s one of Sydney’s doctors.
I wish he was.
“Could I talk to you down the hall?” Dr. Meyers asks.
Cassia grabs my hand, squeezes it, then lets it go.
I nod and stand, my cramped, tired muscles protesting the movement. Then follow Dr. Meyers down the sterile hallway to the end.
“I heard your sister was admitted. She’s still in labor?”
“Yeah.” I clear my throat, my voice ragged and raw. “Uh, yeah. As far as we know.”
He exhales. “There’s never any easy way to say this.”
“She’s dead?”
Dr. Meyers nods. “It was sudden. We think it was a blood clot, a side effect of one of her medications. She was pronounced dead as soon as she arrived at the hospital.” He hesitates. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Thanks.” My voice is wooden. I prepared for this moment, I guess. As much as someone can.
“I know that this is a shock. And that you have a lot of other things going on right now. If you have any questions…if there’s anything you want to talk about, you know where to find me.”
I nod.
Dr. Meyers offers one last sympathetic smile, squeezes my shoulder, then heads in the opposite direction.
I stand there for a minute, the high of the game still mixing with worry about what Sydney is going through right now.
And my mom…there’s a hollow, empty feeling in the center of my chest that isn’t indifference.
Cassia is chewing on her bottom lip when I return to my seat. She studies me closely as I sit back down beside her, silently wondering.
“My mom’s dead.”
