I squeeze her fingers, standing up and pulling the curtain back. The shared room is swelteringly hot. I didn’t want to waste money on a private room, but I wish she had some quiet and was less uncomfortable.
I’ve already spoken to her doctor about her new LUNA treatment plan, and they think she can be started on the new drugs within the week.
I grab the water jug and make my way through the beige corridors and up toward the nurse’s station. The woman behind the desk shows me where there’s a water fountain, and I fill up the jug.
The flow is glacially slow, and as I stand there, I’m almost nodding off. The jet lag, travel, and mental energy it has taken just being around Crawford over the last few days have really taken it out of me. It feels as if I haven’t slept for a week.
Eventually, the jug is full to the brim, but as I’m leaning against the wall, I notice the little café at the end of the corridor is still open.
I head there with the jug still in my hand and order a latte with an extra shot. Annabelle hates being in hospitals alone at night, so I want to be with her for as long as I can, despite my exhaustion.
There’s no way I’ll be able to come into work this week, and the thought of calling Sterling House makes my skin itch, but I know I’ll need to hand in my notice as soon as possible.
Thanks to Crawford, I have thousands of dollars in my bank account, and at least that means we can survive for now. I need to stop thinking so far into the future and just live in the moment. That way, I won’t be overwhelmed by the enormity of what is facing me.
Sipping my coffee, I walk back toward the room. There’s the sound of a patient near my sister’s bed throwing up violently into a bowl.
I grimace, pushing back the curtain, and stop dead in my tracks.
Annabelle is sleeping soundly in the bed, her face pale and thin, and beside her is Lucas Crawford.
He’s looking down at my sister, standing motionless, eyes soft and sad. He looks like a rockstar, with his shades on top of his head, a soft sweater, and jeans.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I whisper, unable to find my voice as those brown eyes I love so much meet mine.
“Amelia,” he says, turning to me. “What happened?”
I place the jug of water on the table at the end of Annabelle’s bed and come around the side, gripping his wrist and pulling him away through the curtain.
We come to a stop in the aisle between the beds, and I stare up at him, my cheeks flaming.
“What are you doing here?” I demand again, and he raises his eyebrows, looking offended.
“You weren’t at work.”
I scoff. “Right, well, I’m sure you can find another girl to replace me,” I snap. “How did you get back here. You’re not next of kin. Did youbribesomeone?”
Crawford’s eyes darken, and he steps closer to me, his expression venomous.
“I saw you leaving the room when you went to get water. I called after you, but you didn’t hear me.”
“And what are you doinghere?”
“You said you were sick, and then I went to your house, and your dad said?—”
“You went to my house?” I hiss, horrified. “You had no right to do that. I’m allowed to be sick from work once in a while.”
“But you’re not sick, are you? Annabelle is.”
Suddenly, we’re surrounded by porters and nurses, and I’m moved gently out of the way as the curtains behind us are pulled back.
Annabelle wakes with a start as the nurses begin unplugging the machines and releasing the brakes on her bed, preparing to wheel her out of the room.
“What’s going on?” I ask one of the nurses, and she nods toward the door.
“We’re moving your sister to a private room.”
I stare after them, grabbing my bag and jogging to keep up as the nurses wheel Annabelle’s bed out of the room and down the hall. The lights in the ceiling shine up at me from the flooras I follow them blindly, Annabelle’s bed swinging sideways and through a door.
