Her hand slides from my chest just long enough to grab mine and tug me toward another set of double doors that she uses her badge again for. It burst open to a different kind of chaos.
Doctors shouting, people screaming, some moaning, and everyone running around. It scares me. I thought the ICU was scary with the codes and machines beeping. But this place makes Sofia’s department look like a library.
She doesn’t flinch. Ducks in and out of curtains pulled for privacy. No one says anything to her. No one stops her. It’s like they all know her or are too busy to say anything to her. But the one thing she never does is drop hands. Just grips tighter as we round the corner to another long hallway of hanging curtains, screams, and yells.
My pulse is hammering in my neck. Heat crawls over my skin, and I break out in a sweat after the umpteenth curtain she ducks behind to find my brother. It’s only when a howl rings out that we both look at each other and run down the hall.
“Emilio!” I rasp and run down the hall with her in tow this time. We freeze for half a second. Eyes lock, and then we’re running. Barreling down the hallway so fast I nearly wipe out on the linoleum. Sofia is right behind me. Her hand is still on mine like she’s making damn sure I don’t collapse before I get there.
I rip the curtain back so hard it screeches on the rod, and there he is. My twin. Sitting half sideways on a gurney with his hair a wild mess, scrapes all up his arms, and a wicked cut to his walking boot. The blood-pressure cuff dangles off his arm while the nurse is trying to start an IV on him.
He’s alive, breathing, and talking. And giving the poor nurse absolute hell.
“I SAID I DON’T WANT ANOTHER SHOT!” he’s yelling, shirt torn, blood dripping from his elbow. Pointing at the needle intended for his vein, but he’s too hyped up. Too amped up from what’s happening. “SOF, MY ANGEL, YOU FOUND ME. TELL THEM I’M SCARED OF NEEDLES!”
The nurse sighs. Already tired of him or wants to quit her job on the spot. Sofia darts forward so fast that the nurse jumps out of her way. She goes full ICU command mode.
Covers his mouth with her hand to silence him while firing questions at the medical personnel about his vitals, asking what they’ve run, what they haven’t, what scans they got, what they’re waiting for, and suddenly, the staff is answering her like she’s the doctor down here.
I stand there for a second, knees locked, chest collapsing around the relief and leftover terror. And fury because he’s sitting up, yelling, being Emilio, and I’ve been dying for twenty straight minutes, convinced he was going to be worse off than before.
Then he looks up and sees me. His whole face splits into this huge, stupid grin, with her hand covering only his teeth. She realizes what’s happening and lowers her hand, but keeps firing questions at them.
“MAS!” he shouts, waving both arms like I’m not at the end of his bed. “How did you know I was here? Did they call you? Sorry about your bike. It’s fucked up. I think I hit a parked car or a mailbox. I don’t know which, but I laid it down pretty good, and then this tow truck hit it!”
My vision blurs. My throat closes. My hands shake. I’m going to kill him. I’m going to hug him. I’m going to give myself a heart attack.
But I don’t get a chance because Sofia turns her back to the staff, her eyes on me, and she gives me this tiny nod. Saying he’s going to be okay.
And for the first time since that unknown number called me, I finally can breathe. Because Sofia’s here, handling everything. And Em’s okay, still an idiot, but okay at least. But still, there is unanswered business. Still, needing answers.
“Bro, why the fuck did you even take my bike out in the first place. You know you’re not allowed?—”
He exhales and then moans, catching everyone’s attention.
“My ribs hurt.”
Suddenly, everyone snaps into motion.
Sofia’s muttering softly to him, saying he has to lie down. The nurse with the needle drops it and dashes out from behind the curtain.
“Just be still. No moving. We need to get some X-rays, but you remember they didn’t hurt like last time,” she’s calmly talking through what needs to be done. He’s staring up at her like she hung the moon. Not even listening when a curl falls toward her face, and he holds it in his fingers. “Now answer your brother, why were you stupid enough to do something to hurt yourself again?”
Her palm flattens on his ribs, and he flinches. Suddenly, his entire face crumples not with pain, but with this dramatic, stupid, emotional sincerity he’s famous for.
“I did it because you two weren’t talking. Because you were sad.”
He points at me with a shaky hand.
“And you were sad.” He points at her next.
“And I was sad.” His lip wobbles. “And I thought if I got hurt again, maybe you’d both come running and we’d be, you know . . . reunited. Like a family. Like we were supposed to be.”
My chest caves in. Sofia’s eyes go wide.
A passing tech mutters “Jesus Christ” under their breath behind the curtain.
“And it worked,” Emilio adds, shrugging one shoulder and then immediately regretting it when he groans in pain. “Look at us. We’re all here. Told you. Genius move.”
