“I’m here,” I call.
My parents halt their rush toward the back door. There’s a blanket tucked under my mom’s arm and a pair of keys dangling from my dad’s hand.
“There you are! When we got the call and couldn’t find you, we thought you’d already be at the hospital.”
I rush toward them. “What hospital? What are you talking about?”
Fear drips through my veins like an IV with each blink of my parents’ stunned eyes.
“You haven’t heard?” my dad asks.
“Haven’t heard what?”
“It’s Shepard.”
I gasp.If something is wrong with his dad, Miles won’t be okay.
“Come with us.”
The entire drive to the emergency department, I picture Miles in an isolated, sterile room, crumpled in a ball at his dad’s bedside. He’s dying inside over a dozen different tubes tethered to his dad’s body, and it’s enough to make me jump out of the moving car the second we reach the parking lot. My parents scream, but I don’t care. All I can think about is getting to him.
I’m still barefoot, racing through the entrance of Bear Lake Memorial Emergency Department, when I’m met with an empty receptionist desk. I ding the obnoxious gold bell on the corner thirty-six times before a nurse in a pair of black scrubs approaches the counter.
“Sorry for the wait, ma’am. We’re short-staffed today. Can I help you?”
“I’m looking for Shepard Bishop. He was brought in… well, I don’t know when he was brought in, but sometime between the hours of midnight and now, and Ineedto find him. Can you tell me anything? Please… I just need to know he’s okay.”For Miles, I think.
“Woah, woah, woah. Slow down,” she says, easing her hand out on the countertop. “Are you family?”
“Yes!” I lie without thinking. “His daughter.”
I can’t possibly tell this woman the complicated truth…you see, I’m not his daughter. More like his neighbor. Hopefullyhis son’s soon-to-be girlfriend? That’s close enough to family, right?Ithasto be.
“Okay, Ms. Bishop,” she assumes. “He’s stable, and in room three. You can go right through there.”
“Thank you!” I holler behind me, shoving through the double doors and down a drawn-out hallway.
I come to a stop, facing the metal numberthreedrilled into the doorway. There’s a pane of glass to the right where the curtain is drawn just beyond it. I knock, then push it open and pull back at the curtain. Miles is asleep with his head on the bed, holding his father’s hand. He startles awake and lifts his weary eyes to the bright beam of light leaking in from the hallway. He rubs his eyelids with the backs of his hands, sitting a little taller as I slip inside and close the door behind me.
He squints, adjusting his eyes to the now-dim light.
“Teddy?”
His voice sounds raw. Thick red rings rim his eyes.
I run to him, throw my arms around his neck.
“Miles, what happened?”
I watch his throat bob. “I went home this morning to bring you breakfast in bed, and I found him”—he looks up at me and wrings his hands, the words coming out stilted as he rushes to explain—“collapsed on the kitchen floor.” His chest heaves. “I shouldn’t have left him, Teddy.” Then he pushes away from my arms.
His words feel like a slap to the face, and my heart breaks.I shouldn’t have left him for youis what he means. He’s pushing me away again, and I can’t stop him.
He starts to cry, and no matter how he does or doesn’t feel about me, not even our height difference can keep me from letting him fall into me. I hold on to him while he cries on my shoulder. I stay.
“What’s all the fuss about,” a voice croaks, and we pull apart just as Shep opens his eyes.
“You’re awake,” Miles gasps, rushing to his dad’s side.
