Liv nods, then leans close, lowering her voice to a whisper. "Even if this is just casual," she says, "promise me you'll never lie to me."
I swallow hard, guilt clawing at my insides. "It doesn't feel that casual to me anymore," I admit.
She pulls back to look at me, her dark eyes searching my face.
I need to tell her. Right now. I need to take her outside, away from her family and the noise and Andy's watchful gaze and confess everything. The fake name, the fake job, the money, all of it. She deserves to know who I really am before this goes any further.
I'm about to suggest we step outside when my phone buzzes. I glance at the screen—a North Carolina number I don't recognize. Probably a spam call, but with Mom and Danny back home, I can never ignore them.
"I'm sorry," I say, pushing back my chair. "I need to take this."
I weave between tables toward the restaurant's entrance and answer.
"Ms. Davis?" a woman asks. "This is Dr. Sarah Marshall at Wake Forest Baptist Medical Center. I'm calling about your brother Daniel."
My stomach drops. "What happened? Is he okay?"
"Daniel sustained a significant head injury. From what we understand, he was struck in the head with a baseball bat."
"What?" The word comes out strangled. I have to lean against the wall to stay upright. "A baseball bat?"
"He has a skull fracture and is currently unconscious. We've induced a medical coma to reduce brain swelling and minimize further damage."
A coma. My brother is in a coma. "How... how serious is this?"
"We've discovered some internal bleeding around the brain—a subdural hematoma. He's in surgery right now. Our neurosurgical team is working to relieve the pressure and stop the bleeding."
Surgery. Brain surgery. I close my eyes, trying to process what she's telling me. "How long will the surgery take?"
"These procedures typically take two to four hours, depending on the extent of the injury. I want to be honest with you, Ms. Davis—the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours will be critical. Head injuries like this can be unpredictable."
"What does that mean? Unpredictable?"
"It means we won't know the full extent of any potential complications until he's stable and we can run more comprehensive tests. The good news is that he's young and otherwise healthy, which works in his favor. But with traumatic brain injuries, we have to take things one step at a time. Your mother is already here. She asked me to call you to explain the situation."
"I'll be there as soon as I can," I say.
"Okay. When you arrive, ask for the neurological ICU. We'll have more information once the surgery is complete.”
I end the call and immediately dial Sam, my assistant. She answers on the first ring.
"Blair?"
"Sam, I need your help. Danny's been in an accident. He's at Wake Forest Baptist in North Carolina. I need a helicopter and a plane. Now. I’m in Maryland, somewhere near Crayfield."
"On it," she says without hesitation. "Where are you exactly?"
I give her the restaurant's name and location and add, "There's a harvested field behind the building. I’ll ask if the helicopter can land there."
"Give me five minutes."
While I wait, my phone buzzes again. Mom.
"Blair." Her voice is thick with tears, barely holding together. "Did the hospital call you?"
"Just now," I say. "They told me he's in surgery."
"What if he doesn't make it? I'm so scared. There was so much blood..."
