Talia squeezes my arm, kindness radiating from her presence. “Dr. Kincaid is a very talented man, but his bedside manner leaves room for improvement.”
I huff. “It’s not him. I mean, not really. Heiskind of gruff, though.” And wildly good looking, if you can get past that jaded, I-know-more-than-you-and-won’t-pass-up-the-chance-to-make-sure-you-know vibe.
“Honey, gruff happens on agoodday.”
Theway she says it makes me snort—an actual snort—which I absolutely did not mean to do, but it weirdly helps.
My shoulders drop a fraction.
Then reality punches me again.
“I’m just…” I rub my temples. “It’s the tests. The ambulance. The fact that I don’t have insurance yet. I mean, Ijustgot the job, but rehearsals haven’t even started, so… no paycheck.”
Talia perks up. “Rehearsals? You a singer?”
“Dancer.” I shake my head and instantly regret it as pain lances through my temple. “I just landed my first real break. Touring with Sandro René.”
Her eyes go wide with recognition before they dart to my ankle. She schools her expression, but I catch it anyway—the flicker of concern, the subtle shift. That flicker is what does me in. Something in me folds. Hope deflates like a children’s balloon as reality sets in.
“How bad is it?” My voice rises. “I mean, I’ll be fine, right? Just a couple days off, then I can start using it again?”
She hesitates. “We’ll know more when we get the results from those tests Doc Gruff ordered.”
I try to smile. I really do. But I’m too busy reading between the lines.
If I can’t dance, I can’t work.
If I can’t work, I don’t get paid.
If I don’t get paid, how am I supposed to affordanyof this?
This would be bad if I hadn’t already quit my other jobs. Losing the tour? Catastrophic.
The panic flares again. Breath catching. Vision narrowing?—
“I know this is a lot.” Talia steps closer and, strangely, I want to ask for a hug. “You’re hurt. You’re scared.” She glances at the monitor, then back at me. “We can’t give you anything too strong just yet—not until we know what’s going on in that head of yours—but how about something for the nerves? Just to take the edge off?”
I nod even though I’m not a big fan of pharmaceuticals. They usually hit me harder than other people. But I’d rather be too relaxed than totally freaked out. She disappears for a few minutes, then returns with a syringe and a small IV push.
“Dr. Kincaid approved a little something for you,” she says. “This’ll work fast.”
As the medicine flows through me, warmth creeps into my chest, down my arms, and out to my fingertips. Like floating. Like silence.
I blink at the ceiling and sigh. “Okay. That’s… better.”
“That’s the idea.” She smooths the blanket over me with quiet care then asks, “Is there someone you want to call to come be with you?”
I nod. “My friends, Stella and Gabby.” I glance over at the chair where my phone’s tucked into my purse. “I think my phone’s exploded. They probably called me a dozen times before I could tell them what happened.”
I don’t even want to think about what will happen when I tell my parents.
IfI tell my parents. It might be better for all of us if they never know.
“Good. That means you can just relax and let everyone else take care of you for a while.”
She winks and leaves me in peace, just as I’m wheeled off for scans.
By the time I’m back in my little ER room, the meds are fully working their magic. No, I don’t know what the future holds, but that’s a problem for Future Lucy. Present Lucy is warm. Floaty. Calm.
