His concern surprises me. But I smile, looking through the window to where Hailey sleeps.
“Nothing an EMT can’t handle.”
The line goes silent for a second, and all I can think about is that day nine years ago. This is my chance to tell him how I really feel.
“Hey, Dad…”
“Yeah?”
“You remember that weekend we came camping here…”
A bunch of garbled tones filter through the speaker, and his voice muffles as he says something to someone on his end.
“Reed, I’m sorry. I’ve actually got to go. We have a big case load, and your mom is on my tail to finish the paperwork before tomorrow.”
“Yeah,” I manage, because what else am I going to say?It figures you’d be too busy to have this conversation with me.
“We’ll catch up soon, okay? Tell Jack I said hi,” he says.
You mean the guy who’s doing you a favor?“Yeah, I’ll tell him.”
I hang up before even saying goodbye, because what’s the point? This conversation was never about me, as usual.
A feeling simmers at the surface, white hot. Anger? Resentment? Blame? Maybe a combination of all three.
And I’m not sure it’s even him I’m mad at anymore. I chased myself out of town. I messed around with that stick to get hisattention nine years ago. It’s me who’s too scared to tell anyone how I really feel.
When I get back to her room, I tuck my phone next to Hailey’s on the nightstand, toggling them both to the silent setting. We could use the uninterrupted sleep.
It takes a while for my mind to settle down with the image of a burning campsite and an unworthy kid haunting it. But the low rumble of thunder in the distance becomes enough of a sound machine and eventually, I drift off to sleep.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
HAILEY
Ican’t see a thing.
At the crack of an eyelid, brilliant white light blinds my retinas.
Where am I?What time is it?
I bat at the surface next to me, reaching for the familiar rectangular object.
It’s too far away.
I try to roll to one side but there’s an arm draped across my midsection. The person it’s attached to groans and furls me in tighter.
I fight through the haze, scratching at my eyes. I try to push Reed’s big body off me with no luck. If I could just… get… a little… I swing at the phone with the finesse of an octopus arm, and it sails off the nightstand and thumps to the floor.
Super.
I’m going to have to go about this another way. I wiggle my body up, down, side to side, testing which direction grants me the most leverage. When my chest slips lower with the scoot of my butt, down it is. With no footboard, I flop off the end in a blunt thud to the floor.
Wow, okay.I’m awake.
I swipe up on the dark screen and stand.
Eightmissed calls?
