“Oh, is that it?” I laugh lightly. “She sounds delightful.”
Joey grins. “Well … I’ll let you get some rest. Not sure when the doctor will be here, but I’ll bring him up when he arrives. Oh, and just so you know, I spoke with Mrs. Pixley. Allie’s stable. She didn’t go into detail about what happened, just something about Allie’s brain activity. But she’s still with us.”
I blink to keep the incessant tears from draining out of my eyes. I almost never cry, and suddenly, I can’t shut them off. This summer has broken some sort of emotional dam inside of me. It’s annoying. I clear my throat, which has decided to get all choked up too. “Uh, thank you … for everything.”
“We’ll figure this out, Lana. You’re not alone.”
I smile weakly. The phone in my hand flashes with another text, drawing my attention. Not ready to respond just yet, I abandon it on the bed.
When Joey leaves, I call Nick. I’m evasive and vague but say I’ll be by to see her later. They’re still waiting on the test results anyway. He promises to call when they know anything.
Then I open the notifications on the Blackwood phone. “Holy shit.”
Before I can read any of the million texts from Grant and Ashton, the other phone buzzes in my hand, causing my heart to skip a beat. The incoming call is unknown. My skin prickles with sweat. I’m prepared for it to be someone from the hospital calling to tell me my mother has something seriously wrong with her. But it’s even worse than I feared.
“What the hell is going on? Why are you in Sherling?”
Brendan.
“Who told you?” Then I remember who I’m talking to. “Oh, right. I’m surprised you don’t have the results of my mother’s bloodwork already. Maybe I should have waved to you from Allie’s room.”
Brendan is deathly silent.
“What do you want, Brendan? I don’t have patience for your bullshit. It’s been a really bad day.”
“We’ll talk when you get back,” he says, his quiet tone cold as ice. Then he hangs up.
I yank one of the pillows off the bed and scream into it. It hurts every muscle in my core, which makes me scream again.
The door flies open.
“What’s wrong?”
I lift my face from the silky white fabric and find Lance in the doorway, ready to … I don’t know what, but he looks like he’s expecting to slay a dragon. When he realizes it’s just me and a pillow, he relaxes.
“I just got off the phone with Brendan,” I explain.
He nods dramatically, like he completely gets it. “I’d be screaming too.”
I let out a short laugh. “Were you … like, hovering outside the door?”
“Uh, not really. My room is across the hall. And I may have had my door open in case you needed anything. Or something happened. Like Brendan calling.”
“Thanks, Lance. But I’m good.”
“I have more pillows,” he adds, motioning with his thumb over his shoulder. “Let me know if you need them.”
“Will do.” I smile gently.
“Okay then.” He swings his arms, backing up awkwardly. “I’ll be … across the hall.” And then he finally closes the door.
I slink down into the bed and stare at the ceiling, releasing a heavy breath.
“Lana?” A warm, soft hand runs along my cheek. “Lana, Dr. Holly is here.”
I blink my eyes awake to find Olivia bending over me with a comforting smile on her face.
“Sorry to wake you, but we want to make sure your injuries aren’t serious.”
She knows? Of course she knows. I have a feeling theirs is a marriage without many secrets. Maybe that’s why they’re still so close. Secrets have the power to crumble castles into sand.
I ease up, determined to keep a neutral face so she doesn’t know how much I want to howl in pain. But from the crinkle between her brows, I’m not doing a good job faking it.
A petite woman with a dark-haired pixie cut and square glasses shielding dark green eyes stands by the end of the bed. She’s wearing a navy-blue cardigan sweater over a white blouse. I would never guess she’s a doctor. But I suppose doctors could potentially be anyone, even someone with a warm smile and twinkling eyes, who looks like she might be a kindergarten teacher on the side.
“Hi, Lana. We’ll let you get back to sleep in just a moment. I heard you were attacked earlier today.” She sets an old-fashioned black doctor’s bag on the mattress next to my feet. “I’m sorry that happened to you. How are you feeling about it?”
“Angry,” I answer without a filter. “Really fucking angry.”
Olivia blinks. I suppose if she teaches others how to become therapists and counselors, she should understand the power of honest answers. Dr. Holly has a slight grin on her face—that surprises me.
“You have every right to be angry,” she says to me, plugging a stethoscope into her ears. “Now let’s take a listen.”
The exam isn’t long. She listens, presses and pokes. Has me pee in a cup and stand in front of a screen, which must have been set up in my room while I was asleep, to take X-rays. Never knew they had portable X-ray machines until now. Or that doctors actually made house visits.
“I’m tempted to have you go to the hospital for a scan to rule out internal bleeding, but the X-rays indicate nothing’s broken. I believe your kidney’s bruised, and there isn’t much that can be done for that. I’ll give you something for the discomfort. It’ll take a couple weeks to recover—no contact sports or fighting during that time.”
I raise my brows, wondering how she knew. She nods toward the scraped and red knuckles on my right hand.
“Oh. Right.”
Olivia has remained quietly in the room the entire time. I’m afraid to look over at her, not sure if she’ll be able to refrain from judgment, no matter how professional she’s been.
After everything is packed away, Parker and Joey enter to carry the X-ray equipment downstairs.
“It was nice to meet you, Lana,” Dr. Holly says, setting a hand on my shoulder. “It’s time to heal. And I don’t just mean your body. Allow Dr. Harrison to help you. She’s good at what she does.”
She leaves us alone. I shoot Olivia a quick glance out of the corner of my eye, still unwilling to face her.
“We don’t have to talk now. But please, let someone help you, Lana, even if you decide it’s not me. There’s a lot going on in your life, and you have every right to your feelings. But I worry about how you choose to express them.”
I cave and finally lift my eyes to her.
“I don’t want anything to happen to you. Not ever again.” She moves to stand in front of the door, her hand on the knob.
“Is that what you’re doing for my mother? Helping her sort out her feelings?” I ask, a thread of anger in my words.
“I’m being a friend. She needs one she can trust, and I’m trying to be that for her,” she answers with patience, making my defensiveness disengage.
“Then where have you been? She’s needed you,” I say, my voice faltering.
“I know,” she answers quietly. “I was respecting her wishes, no matter how hard it was to do so.” Olivia opens the door. “Get some rest. I’m going back to the hospital. But call me if you’d like to talk about what happened. It would mean a lot if you let me be there for you.”