I tell her about the gala, which she knows about from the pictures Sophie sent her. I tell her about yesterday, about the zoo, the museum, and the cold she must have picked up. I tell her about this morning, Sophie feeling off as we left Boston, the storm closing in, getting her back to my apartment. How she deteriorated so quickly. Her delirium. How she passed out in the car on the way here.
Then I tell her about bringing Sophie into the hospital, watching them surround her still body, the world collapsing around me as they shouted things I didn't understand.
"What has the doctor said, Callum?" Her voice is clinical, a little cold but not mean, just focused military precision. How I imagine she speaks while at work. "Verbatim."
"They're stabilizing her," I repeat. "Her fever was around 101. They hooked her up to an IV, started antibiotics, and said they were getting her records from her oncologist. They mentioned isolation. They haven't come back out yet."
"That's probably a good sign then. Alright. I need to make a couple of phone calls. I need to get some shit together. Callum, you stay with my sister. Put my number in your phone—should have been there anyway since you seem to bepermanent," her voice has a little humor to it, and it makes me smile for a moment.
Permanent. God, I hope so. I want nothing else.
"I want an update every thirty minutes," she continues. "Even if I don't respond, you send them."
"Yes, of course," I answer immediately.
There's a softer pause before she speaks again. "Take care of my sister, Callum. She's all I have."
The weight of that statement settles into me, and I feel my spine straighten, a determination running through my veins. Mymom, Atticus, Jane, Tonya, and now Tess have all given me words that I need.
And Sophie needs all of us right now—we can't fall apart on her.
"I will," I breathe. "I promise, Tess. With everything I have..."
"Hm... knew I had a good feeling about you," her voice is low, as if she's speaking to herself. "I'll be in touch. Every thirty minutes."
She hangs up then, and I take a deep breath, turning to meet my mom's eyes from where she's sitting in her chair. Atticus, Jane, and Tonya are sitting together, talking quietly. I quickly save Tess' contact on my phone, double-check the number, then slip both phones into my pockets.
My eyes scan the waiting room, seeing so many different people sitting around waiting for news or waiting to be taken back—their faces drawn, in pain, or just exhausted. It's just a room full of misery right now, but I'm determined to remain positive, to remain as optimistic as my sweet girl is.
I cannot succumb to despair, because Sophie wouldn't.
My mom stands up, grabs the duffel bag from where I dropped it, and hands it to me.
"Go get changed, sweetest heart," my mom tells me, gently pushing me toward the bathroom.
Pulling on the dry, warm clothes is a relief, and I shove my wet clothes in the bag before walking over to the sinks and looking at myself in the mirror. My eyes are still red-rimmed, my hair is a tangled and unruly mess, and I definitely look as awful as I feel.
I press my palms to my eyes and breathe deep, in and out, until I feel the tears subside. Crying any more won't accomplish anything, and I need to pull myself together. Splashing somecold water on my face, I run my hands through my hair to try to fix the mess, not wanting Sophie to see me like this.
If I look scared, she'll be scared, so she needs to see me calm and steady.
I will be calm and steady for her.
Swinging the bag over my shoulder, I walk back out into the waiting room—
And immediately into chaos.
Tonya's voice registers to me first, sharp and biting, while she argues with a man—a very familiar man, I realize from the back of his blonde head.
Paul.
"Unless you're here for a lobotomy to fix whatever the hell is wrong with you, get out of here!"
"They called me."
"And why thefuckwould they callyou?"
"I'm still her emergency contact."
