Nothing comes.
I reach for the glass of water on the tray beside the bed and nearly knock it over.
The sound is enough to snap Lena awake.
She sits up with a jerk, eyes wide and already moving, hands braced on the arms of the chair.
"You're awake," she says, and her voice is a surprise.
I expected exhaustion, but there's a real relief in it, something unguarded.
I nod, sip the water, try not to wince.
"How long?"
Lena glances at her watch, then out the window.
"Eighteen hours. Maybe twenty. They sedated you for the worst of it. Doc said you'd be up yesterday, but…"
She lets the thought drift.
A hand unconsciously flies to my stomach.
"You're fine," she reassures me.
"All of you. That's a fighter in there."
Now would be a good time to tell her.
"There’s two."
If that stuns her, she doesn’t show it.
My throat begins to constrict as I am faced with the mad urge to hug my belly tight.
I blink twice.
"Where is he?" I ask once I'm sure I won't cry.
I don't say who, but she answers anyway.
"Dealing with fallout, though he should be back now. I believe he's meeting with your doc in the study."
She leans back, her face shadowed by the overhead light.
"He was here last night. They had to patch him, too."
Of course they did.
The memory of his arm, blood-slick to the elbow, comes back with a clarity I wish I could dull.
I ask, "What's the news?"
She sighs.
"City is locked down. Curfew on the south side. Council says it's a public safety issue, nothing to do with Crowleys or Connollys. But no one believes it."
She hesitates, as if deciding whether to add more.
