I smiled and squeezed his hand as they rolled him into the ambulance. He could act tough all he wanted, but I knew the marshmallow that lived inside him.
The ambulance pulled away quietly at first, and I followed close behind. Then, at the intersection that took us out of Blueshore, the siren blared to life, and my heart stuttered. The emergency. Walter was in there. Something was wrong.
My boxy little car’s small engine felt useless for the first time. Too slow. Too ridiculous. As if it didn’t belong in a moment like this. The memory of Owen folding himself into the driver seat flickered through my mind—his broad frame making my tiny car seem even more absurd. A wave of something tight and suffocating rushed through me. My hands were clammy, gripping the wheel too hard. I couldn’t risk letting go to dial his number. The last thing I needed was to become an emergency myself.
The siren kept wailing as we sped toward the nearest hospital in Wayford, and traffic was, as Walter had said, a bear.
When the ambulance finally stopped at the ER entrance, I pulled in behind it without thinking.
“I’ll move the car later, I just need to see my grandfather—that ambulance,” I blurted to the approaching parking attendant.
He gave me a quick once-over, then nodded, letting me through.
Just as I reached the back of the ambulance, the doors swung open. A team of four rushed forward from the ER,just as the stretcher rolled out to a cacophony of voices shouting out instructions and medical terms.
Walter wasn’t talking anymore.
They all rushed inside, and my voice got lost in the commotion. “What happened?” I yelled, but no one turned back.
I ran after them only to be stopped by a nurse. “I’m sorry, you can’t go in there. We’ll take good care of him.”
“But what happened? He was conscious when they put him in the ambulance.” I was still trying to get past her, not exactly shoving her, but she did have to put a firm hand on my shoulder to stop me from darting forward. Behind her, the ER doors swung shut, sealing Walter away.
“He experienced atrial fibrillation,” she said. “It can cause loss of consciousness. A doctor will come out as soon as we know more, but right now, we need to stabilize him.” Her voice softened. “Why don’t you sit down? Maybe have a cup of tea.”
I swallowed and nodded, even though tea was the last thing I wanted.
The waiting area was too bright, fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. I dropped into a plastic chair, trying to steady my breathing. My hands trembled as I fished my phone out of my back pocket and dialed.
Owen’s number went straight to voice mail.
Of course. It was the middle of the night in London.
I then shot him a text instead.“Call me when you get this. Walter’s in the hospital.”
I called Simon next.
“Oh, no,” he said when I told him what little I knew. “Could it be a heart attack?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Did you get ahold of Owen?”
“No answer.”
“I’ll try him,” Simon said. “Nicole is out of town at a conference so I’m with the kids. I’ll find a sitter, but I’ll come as soon as I can.”
“No, don’t, not yet,” I said quickly. “Let me find out more first. I’ll keep you posted.”
A voice interrupted me.
“Miss?”
Lifting my gaze, I found the parking attendant standing a few feet away.
“Your car,” he said apologetically.
“Simon, I’ll call you back. Don’t do anything yet. Just ... try calling Owen.”
