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“She’s sneakier.”
“Don’t I know it,” Carina retorts. “She snuck out the first night you were in the hospital. I went into her room to check on her and her bed was empty. I drove around for a little bit with no luck, but as I got back to the hospital to speak to Mum, I saw her outside with the boy who likes her.”
“You didn’t drag her back home?”
“No because she was watching over you. How could I reprimand her for that when we all wanted to be there to watch over you?”
“I am sorry for putting you all through this.”
She leans over, placing her hand over mine. “Just promise me, if you ever need to talk, you will come to one of us,” she pleads, lowering her gaze. “I heard you crying out in your sleep.”
“I will,” I promise, swallowing past the lump in my throat. I didn’t know I had been doing that, and I’m embarrassed that she witnessed it. “What was I crying out for?”
“It wasn’t a what,” she responds. “It was a who.”
I swallow, glancing away. “Who?”
I didn’t want to admit to my fears, even if I was unconscious. That night with Cyrus plays over and over in my head. I remember calling out for Cole, and then again when Emily got dragged away. I had been immobile, unable to do anything to help them. I had to listen to her cries, to their goodbye, powerless to help.
Carina takes me off guard with her response. “Immy,” she answers, just as there’s a knock on the door. She glances that way, her brows pinching together. “I’ll let whoever that is in, and then I need to go. I have to help with the evening rush.”
“Thank you for coming and cooking me food.”
She grabs her bag off the armchair as she gets to her feet. “I left some extras on the side for you. When they’ve cooled, pop them in the fridge. Bella is coming tomorrow, and trust me, you don’t want to eat what she cooks up.”
I smile at that. “Got it.”
She leans down, kissing my cheek. “Be well. And call me if you need anything.”
“I will. Love you, sis.”
“Love you too, you goof.”
She makes her way to the door as someone knocks again. She picks up some fallen magazines and places them on the side table next to the door.
She pulls it open, and from where I’m sitting on the sofa, I get the perfect view of the doorway. And who’s standing in it, fidgeting nervously on her feet.
“Imogen,” Carina greets and turns to me, raising her eyebrows with a knowing smirk plastered on her face. “What a coincidence. Imogen is here, Ben.”
“I can see,” I reply, not at all amused by her attempt at being funny. “Are you going to keep blocking her entrance?”
Carina, remembering her manners, steps aside. “Sorry.”
“Coincidence?”
“Um, yeah. I was just saying I felt bad leaving him alone. You wouldn’t mind staying with him for a bit, would you?”
“Actually—”
“Perfect. There’s some food on the counter in the kitchen. If you hurry, it will still be hot.”
“Um, okay,” Imogen responds.
“Catch up soon,” Carina orders, then closes the door behind her, nearly knocking the basket from Imogen’s hands.
She slowly moves her gaze from the door to me. “I’m sorry to intrude. I was supposed to give this to Dad to give to you, but he’s away for a few days with work.”
“You aren’t intruding. Come in and take a seat.”
