Seven missed calls. Same unknown number.
My chest tightens, sharp and familiar, like my body already knows something my brain hasn’t caught up to yet.Then the voicemail notification pops up.Bridger Falls MemorialHospital.Whatever this is, it isn’t routine. It isn’t nothing.My hands go cold as I hit play on the voicemail.
“Mr. Kendrick, please call us back as soon as possible at this number.”
I hit redial, already pacing back and forth in the kitchen. All those missed calls and a voicemail from the hospital can never mean anything good.
“This is Ollie Kendrick returning a call,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady.
The receptionist pauses. “Hold please.”
I pace the kitchen, unable to stand still. I know Owen’s at school, and Poppy’s at the high school. And Cami is out at the ranch with Jack. I’m guessing it has nothing to do with them, or I would have a lot of text messages.
There’s a pause. Then, “Ollie?”
I jerk back in confusion. “Mom? Are you okay?”
“You need to come down to the hospital right away,” she says. Her voice is clipped, professional in that way that means something’s wrong. “Come up to the fourth floor. I’ll meet you there and explain everything.”
“Is Cami okay?” I blurt. “Is she hurt?”
“Everyone’s fine,” my mom says quickly in a hushed tone. “Just get down here.”
That’s not comforting. Not even a little. I don’t like this.
I’m in my truck two minutes later, and every red light feels like a personal attack. By the time I pull into the hospital lot, my hands are shaking. I take the elevator and don’t even notice where I’m going until I step out onto the fourth floor.
Labor and Delivery. The freaking maternity ward.
I stop short. “What the hell?” I mutter.
My mom stands at the nursing station, scrubs on, hair pulled back, eyes locked on me the second she sees me. She doesn’t smile and looks serious, and it’s freaking me out.
“Come with me,” she says. “I have to show you something.”
My pulse roars in my ears as she leads me down the hall and into a room. It smells clean and warm and quiet. Too quiet.
There’s a bassinet by the hospital bed with a baby in it. I glance around the room, waiting for someone to explain what the hell is going on. It’s just my mom and another nurse, and they’re watching me intently.
I freeze in the doorway, backing out into the hall, running into my mom.“Mom,” I say slowly. “Whose baby is that?”
She turns to me, expression unreadable. “Apparently yours now. The mother said it was your father’s, but she told the hospital to call you. This is your sibling.”
The room tilts. I jerk back as if this is a joke that isn’t even remotely funny.“That’s not funny.”
“The mother gave birth and left,” my mom continues. “She told the staff to call Ollie Kendrick. They paged me because I was on shift, and they know you’re my son. What are you going to do, Ollie?”
I stare at the tiny baby swaddled tightly in a white blanket. Pink little face sleeping peacefully. No bigger than a loaf of bread. So tiny.I’m glued to the floor in the doorway, unable to pass through. Because if I step inside that room, that baby becomes very real.
“Did you know about her?” my mom asks softly.“Did your dad mention anyone?”
“No,” I say, my voice hoarse. “Who is she?”
My brain scrambles, searching, and nothing comes to me. I haven’t talked to my dad in a very long time.
My mom steps aside. “Do you want to hold her?”
Her. She’s a girl. My heart squeezes when I look at her. A rush of emotions overcomes me. Emotions, I can’t even place a name on right now.
