“We were just speaking about Jacob’s transfer,” Dr. K says, gesturing for me to sit at Jacob’s side, across from his parents. I shoot Jacob the tiniest smile as I sit down, but I’m not sure he sees it. He’s staring at his hands, the corners of his mouth pressed together tightly.
“Is he being moved out of the ICU?” I ask.
“Yes, soon,” Dr. K says. “But we are also discussing sending him to a different hospital, somewhere a bit more convenient for all of you.” She smiles politely at his parents.
“Oh.” I sit back in my chair. I hadn’t thought of that. Jacob’s parents live somewhere in New Mexico. I’m a bit fuzzy on my US geography, but I know it’s really far away from here. Jacob always complained about how inconvenient it was to get home for holidays. My stomach clenches. If he goes to a hospital there, it’ll be nearly impossible to visit him. After the next few races in Europe, F1 is headed to Singapore.
“There’s a hospital in Albuquerque that we’ve already been in touch with,” Jacob’s father says. “They have the best doctors in the state. We’d like him moved there as soon as possible.”
I glance at Jacob again, but he seems determined not to look at me. He can’t be okay with this. He hates going back home. He always says it’s too cold in winter and too hot in summer, and that no one sane should live in a place with so many poisonous snakes and spiders.
“I will not clear him for transfer for at least a week,” Dr. K says. “Perhaps longer, if there are any complications. I need to see him up and moving with our physiotherapists, and the orthopedic surgeon will need to clear him as well.”
“I’m sure he’ll be up and at it in no time,” Jacob’s father says.
“I certainly hope so,” Dr. K says pleasantly.
His parents smile at each other, but I can’t stop looking at Jacob. He looks absolutely miserable, and I just know he isn’t going to stand up for himself.
I clear my throat. “Are you sure that New Mexico’s the best place for him?”
Both his parents turn to ice, like I knew they would. Jacob’s mother’s mouth presses together so tightly that the edges of her lips turn white.
“It’s his home,” she says tersely. “And he’ll need us to take care of him.”
“If he were in London—” I start, but his father interrupts.
“If he were in London, he’d be alone,” he says sharply. “He doesn’t know anyone there.”
“He knows me,” I shoot back.
Jacob’s father lets out a dismissive breath. “You’ll be off racing.”
“Then I’ll take time off,” I snap.
“Take time off,” he repeats scornfully. “You’re an F1 driver. What are you going to do, tell the world you need a personal day?”
My cheeks flush. As much as I hate to admit it, he isn’t wrong. F1 drivers can’t just take time off. All of my time is booked up months in advance, and I’ve already missed tons of work since Jacob’s crash. I remember the look on Stefan’s face when I told him about Jacob.I need to think about this, he said.
The last thing I can afford right now is to miss more time.
“I could manage it,” I say, but even to my own ears, my voice sounds uncertain.
Jacob flinches a bit when I say it, though he still doesn’t lift his eyes. His father scoffs again, but Dr. K holds up her hands.
“As I say, I will not clear him for another week, atleast. We are getting too far ahead of ourselves. Once he is cleared fortransfer, we can discuss this again. Does that sound okay with you, Jacob?”
She waits patiently for him to answer, but he just keeps staring at his hands.
“Jacob,” his mother says.
He shrugs one shoulder. “It’s fine.”
Dr. K’s brow creases with concern. “We can talk about it more later. For now, I’ll leave you to rest,” she says, gently stressing the word “rest.”
The minute she’s gone, Jacob’s father leans forward and snatches an angry breath, but before he can speak, Jacob interrupts.
“Can you guys get me some water?” he asks his parents. “Please?”
