I smile. “Sounds like my mom.” I wish I was as strong as my mom.
The door to my room opens, and a nurse in scrubs and a high ponytail walks in pushing a small cart. “Morning. I’m Nurse Beck.” She grabs a pair of latex gloves from the pack on the cart and slips them on. “I’m going to remove the IV, then you’re free to leave. The police are waiting outside to take your statement.”
“Are you up to it?” Christopher asks.
Not really, but it doesn’t seem I have a choice. What if Levi was in the wrong here? Pedestrians usually have the right of way, especially in residential areas. But still . . . I’m scared I’ll say something wrong and throw my friends under the bus.
“Stay with me?”
Christopher nods. “Of course.”
Moments later, after the nurse leaves, two policemen walk into the room. After introducing themselves, one of them takes out a notebook and starts jotting down notes.
Twenty minutes later, they leave. According to them, the driver is in their custody, arrested for drunk driving.
“I have to head out to work. You sure you’re okay?” Christopher asks.
Pulling the sheets to my shoulders, I nod.
“All right.” He ruffles my hair as though I’m a little kid, and surprisingly, I don’t mind it. In fact, I like it a lot. “I have a meeting at one with a prospective buyer for a house in town. The doctor will drop by with the discharge papers.” He flicks his wrists and checks his watch for the time. “Debbie will be here any minute now to pick you up.”
I shake my head. “I’m not leaving.”
“Grace—”
“I want to hang around in case one of them comes out of ICU.”
“You need to rest.”
“Christopher is right,” Mom declares, walking into the room with Father Foster behind her.
Dropping my gaze to my lap, I blink a few times as my heart picks up a fast beat. How am I going to face him, knowing I’m the one who put his nephew in danger?
Taking quick, deep breaths, I lift my gaze. He’s already watching me with tired red eyes as he halts at the foot of the bed. His brows are creased into a deep frown, his mouth is pressed into a hard line.
“Grace,” he greets in a tone I’ve never heard him use before. It’s disappointment and anger all rolled into one.
I lick my dry lips and swallow hard, then manage to say, “Hi, Father.”
He nods once. “How are you feeling?”
“Better.”
Breaking our stare, he moves his eyes to my mother, then to Christopher before zooming in on me again. Without wasting time, he says, “I need to know exactly what happened between you, my nephew, and Levi,” at the same time I open my mouth to tell him how sorry I am for what happened. The words die on my lips. “I got the second-hand version from Ivan, but I need to hear it from you.”
I shut my eyes and draw air into my lungs, praying for courage and the strength to pour out the story. When I open them, three pairs of eyes watch me expectantly. The thought of giving them a different version of what happened crosses my mind for just a second, but I shake it off.
“We were at MJ’s birthday party. Sol and I started talking and—and then we, um, kissed . . .” The words hang in the air like shards of ice: sharp, cold, and toxic.
Father Foster folds his arms across his chest, his lips tightening. “You and Sol kissed.” He sucks a breath and shakes his head. “So what happened next? How did both Sol and Levi end up in the street?”
My stomach tightens at my next words. “Levi walked in on us. He took off outside, and I ran after him. I had no idea Sol was right behind me until he called my name, then pushed me out of the way and followed Levi, who was already in the street. Then the truck . . .” I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head. I can’t. I can’t put into words what I saw, the paralyzing fear still wracking through me.
An arm wraps around my shoulder, and my eyes blink open to find my mom side-hugging me close. From my peripheral view, I see Christopher shift his weight from foot to foot, eyes directed to the floor.
Abruptly, Father Foster drops his arms, his face a mask of anger and pain. “Excuse me.” He turns and strides out of the room. No one says anything for several seconds. Mom brings her other arm around me and hugs me tight.
Confessing what happened doesn’t give me the absolution I crave. At this point, nothing probably ever will.
“Come on. Change your clothes. Chris and I will go have a chat with the doctor and grab the discharge papers, then we can go home.”
I don’t have any energy left to argue with her. I wait for them to leave, then proceed to do what she says. Mom returns after a bit minus Christopher, who had to leave for his appointment.
Ten minutes later, my mother and I are heading to the parking lot where she’s parked her car, and we go home.
Tuesday morning. Today officially marks the third day since the accident.
I wake up early and get ready to go to the hospital. When we got home yesterday, Mom promised to drop me there today after breakfast since I don’t trust myself behind the wheel at the moment. MJ drove my car from her place to mine last night, then we hung out at my place for a while. She mentioned that Levi’s mom and his brother, Jet, arrived yesterday.
After breakfast, I take Advil to stave off the looming headache before Mom drops me off. I wander inside the hospital, then text MJ to let her know where I am. She arrives about twenty minutes later, stalking toward me with a scowl on her face.
“Who stole your puppy?” I ask.
She blinks at me. “What?”
“You look mad as hell. What’s up?”
She blows out air through her mouth. “Ivan’s being an ass.”
“What did he do?”
She looks away, and I get the feeling she doesn’t want to talk about it. Right then, Ivan walks through the glass doors, his eyes skipping to his girlfriend before looking in my direction.
“Hey. Feeling better?”
I nod, flicking a gaze to MJ. “Everything okay between you two?”
They glare at each other before averting their gazes. I make a mental note to ask MJ what’s going on later.
We end up in the waiting area outside the ICU. Since we’re not family, we huddle together and wait for either Father Foster or Jet or Levi’s mom to walk out the glass doors. Laying my head on the chair’s headrest, I focus on my breathing and staying calm, hoping the light throbbing from my wound will go away.
Ivan nudges my knee, brows raised in question.
“It’s just a headache.” I reach for the bottle of Advil inside the pocket of my jacket and pop two into my mouth. I chase them down with the water MJ hands me, then screw the cap back on the bottle.
“I’ve made a mess of things, haven’t I?”
Ivan sighs, running a hand down his face. “Yeah, you and Sol did, Grace—”
“Ivan!” MJ whisper-yells before reaching up and swatting the back of his head.
“Ow, what?” He glares at his girlfriend. “You want me to lie?”
“It’s fine,” I interrupt them, then force a smile. My face feels like it’s about to crack open. “Your honesty is quite refreshing.”