My vision blurred as tears filled my eyes. Before I could reply, he sent another.
I wish I’d been there for you so many nights. I probably shouldn’t say that, but I feel like we lost seven years.
I quickly replied,“I do too.”
My dad heard my sniffling and glanced my way.
I have to go. Goodnight, Xander.
Goodnight, Emery.
And before I knew what I was doing, I sent a red heart emoji and then tucked my phone away.
***
Sunday morning, I was awake before dawn. I was still dressed in my jeans and sweatshirt from the night before. I wouldn’t have cared, but the sweatshirt smelled like smoke. I changed my shirt, brushed my hair and teeth, and ran downstairs. Jack may have acted like he hated me these past few years, but the thought of him waking up alone made me sick.
Muffled voices met me as I neared the kitchen. I peeked inside to see my mother, still in her nightgown and robe, sitting on a stool at the island and my father leaning against the counter opposite her. He wore a scowl while she glared back at him through bleary eyes.
“Enough is enough, Grayson,” she hissed. “What more do you want? We’ve already lost—”
“Don’t say it,” he cut her off with a slashing motion.
Mom slid off the stool and tightened her robe around her. “I’m saying no. I know you don’t like that, but for once, I’m saying it. He stays. He stays before you run him out the door too.”
My heart thudded in my chest, and I stepped into the kitchen as my mother made her way out. She stopped short to see me. “Emery…”
“We’re going to the hospital now, right?” I looked between her and my dad’s red face and angry glare. “To see Jack?”
Mom nodded. “In a bit. I need to get dressed. I need to…prepare.”
She stepped past me, and I looked to Dad. “Well?”
He gritted his teeth, arms crossed in quiet fury for having been told “no.” I guessed he’d told her his plan to send Jack somewhere terrible and she’d vetoed it. A first, as far as I knew.
“Daddy…?”
“Not now, Emery,” he snapped and walked past me. “I have some things to wrap up. I’ll be along shortly.”
I stood alone in the big kitchen, listening to the silence and feeling time ticking away. Then I grabbed my keys and headed out.
***
At Newport Hospital, I gave Jack’s name and received directions to the fourth floor burn ward. His private room, purchased for him by our father, looked more like a suite. Not because our dad wanted him to have the best, but because he wanted to keep the news of this incident from spreading.
A doctor—a middle-aged woman with reddish hair—was just stepping out. She looked relieved to see me.
“Oh, hello. Are you family?”
“I’m Jack’s sister, Emery.”
“Hi Emery, I’m Dr. O’Connell. I’m in charge of your brother’s care while he’s here.”
“How is he? I mean, how bad is it?”
“What we’re seeing is encouraging, actually,” she said. “Initial assessments last night were grim, but after careful evaluation and preliminary treatment, I’m happy to report that the damage wasn’t as severe as we’d thought.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank God.”
