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I checked my phone in the elevator. No new messages from Rhea, which I assumed was a good thing.Please let her be okay.
The doors slid open. I ran out, turned the corner, and— My stomach plummeted.
George and Caroline stood in the hall, him in a suit and her in a designer tweed dress. Their backs faced me, but I would recognize them anywhere.
I’d been so focused on seeing Pen I hadn’t considered their presence. Honestly, I wouldn’t have been surprised if theyhadn’tshown up. They had a habit of ignoring her unless it was absolutely necessary.
They were talking to a nurse and hadn’t noticed me yet. Rhea, however, did. Our gazes locked before she deliberately turned, letting me take advantage of George and Caroline’s distraction to slip into Pen’s room.
I’d deal with the fallout later. Right now, I needed to see her.
Pen appeared to be sleeping, but she stirred when I closed the door behind me.
She turned her head, her eyes widening with surprise. “Sloane?”
“Hi.” I mustered a faint smile even as I frantically scanned her for signs of grievous injury. She looked so tiny in the hospital bed, but other than a giant bandage over her forehead, I didn’t spot anything amiss. She didn’t seem to have any broken limbs, bruises, or contusions. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m okay.” Pen’s voice was thin but steady. “Don’t worry. It’s just a cut. Everyone’s freaking out over nothing.”
“What happened?” The knots in my chest loosened, but worry lingered in the spaces between them.
“It’s so stupid,” she grumbled, sounding her full nine years of age. “I fell and hit my head on the sidewalk. That’s it.”
“Pen.” I leveled her with a stern stare.
She heaved an aggrieved sigh. “I crashed while Annie and I were taking a walk. I hit my head on the curb and, um, almost got run over by a bicycle.”
I bit back a curse and a litany of questions. Annie was Rhea’s backup whenever Rhea had the day off. She should’ve known better than to take Pen out at this time of day, when she was most likely to crash.
Thankfully, it appeared to have been a mild crash or she would’ve been knocked out instead of talking to me, but still.
I smoothed a hand over her hair, my heart squeezing at how fine and delicate it felt. She was so young, and she’d already been through so much.
“But I’m okay.” Pen’s eyes drifted closed before she opened them again, her small face filled with determination. She always resisted sleeping when we saw each other. The selfish part of me was thankful for the extra time; the anxious part worried it made her crashes worse. “Annie took me here just in case…”
I could guess why they’d put her in a private room so soon. My father had donated an entire wing to the hospital years ago.
“Where’s Annie now?” I asked.
“I don’t know. She got fired.” Pen looked down. “Rhea left her niece’s baby shower early to see me.”
“Because she cares about you. We all do,” I said gently.
I glanced at the bandage again. It was a relatively minor injury, but even minor injuries could have intense effects on people with CFS. The recovery took longer, and the pain could intensify their symptoms.
“Do Mom and Dad know you’re here?” Pen’s eyes were closing again.
“Not yet.” Dread punctured my relief at the thought of confronting them.
“I’m glad you came. They’ll…” Her voice faded into nothing, and she was out.
I lingered for a minute, savoring our last moments together. Pen and I had both changed since I left my family years ago.
We were older, somewhat wiser, and more cognizant of what we were dealing with when it came to George and Caroline. But in some ways, we were the same—still trapped by our circumstances, still helpless to change them.
The adrenaline from Rhea’s call dissipated, leaving me with cold, hard clarity. The second I stepped into the hall, George and Caroline would know I’d been secretly seeing Pen. The only way I could’ve gotten here so quickly was if Rhea had contacted me, and the onlyreasonI’d come so quickly was because I loved Pen. Considering she’d been four during our last known-to-them contact, it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out we’d kept in touch over the years.
Maybe I’d get lucky. Maybe George and Caroline wouldn’t make a big deal out of it, and they wouldn’t fire Rhea or lock Pen somewhere I couldn’t get to her out of spite.
