“What do you mean?”
Clara lifted a shoulder as she grabbed the blueberries from the freezer. “She just mentioned something about the hospital being in chaos.”
She closed the freezer and turned, only to find Scarlett right there.
Clara gasped. “What are you—”
“What did she say? Exactly.”
Clara’s mouth opened and closed. “Um…not much. Something about a dead patient—”
“Lauren?”
“Maybe. She didn’t say a name.”
“What else?”
“Um…other patients going into heart failure and respiratory depression.”
“How many? Has anyone else died? Who were the doctors?”
“I don’t know. She didn’t say. The guys came outside and interrupted her.” Clara frowned. “What’s going on? Why do you care so much?”
Frustration filled Scarlett’s eyes and she stepped back. “I have to go.” Then she turned and left before Clara could say anything else.
Holden pulledup outside The Tea House and ran his fingers through his hair. He hadn’t said one word to Clara all morning. He’d smiled at her. Gave her a nod. But not one fucking word after their kiss.
Shit, he was a coward.
He leaned back against the headrest. A lot of people lost family members. So why had the loss of his mother scarred him so much? Because she’d been sick for so many years? Because by the end of it, he’d just been waiting for her to die? Or because once shehaddied, he’d been left with no one?
Whatever the hell it was, it taught him that loving another person,needinganother person, could hurt you. No, not just hurt. Rip apart the very foundation of your world.
He climbed out of the truck and crossed the parking lot to The Tea House. He needed coffee. Hell, he needed more than coffee, but it was nine in the damn morning.
Inside, he scanned the space. An old military habit. No matter what room he walked into, it was ingrained in him to identify possible threats. To be aware of his exits at all times.
The first people he noticed were Malcolm and Helen. They sat in a booth by the window. Malcolm’s back was toward him, and they both leaned forward and spoke in hushed voices.
Holden went to the counter. Mrs. Gerald had hired some employees in the last few months, but it was still the lady herself who made most of the coffee.
She turned her head and smiled at him. “Holden, honey. Hi. Your usual?”
“Can we make it a double shot today?”
“Absolutely. Is everything okay?”
“Mostly.” Which was true. Most of his life was great. He had a great job. A great best friend who came with an amazing family. It was just Clara who sat heavy on his chest and took up too much space in his mind.
“It seems to be a tough morning for a lot of people today.” Mrs. Gerald’s gaze shifted behind him, presumably to Malcolm and Helen, before returning to the coffee machine.
He lowered his voice. “Yeah, she had a rough night last night.”
“She did? Oh, I thought they were talking about the hospital.” Mrs. Gerald shook her head. “I should mind my own business. Although, it’s not always easy to do that with Dr. Trundle here. He’s almost famous these days.”
“Is he?”
“Oh, yes, he was all over the news and in the papers for some treatment he created.”
