“A car accident?” The beeping on the monitor picks up as my heart races. My memory is fuzzy, but I was picking my sister up from the formal. Was she in the car? “Where’s Milly?”
“She’s okay, honey,” Mum sniffs, stroking my face. “She wasn’t in the car. She’ll be here soon. The main thing is you’re okay.”
Another thought occurs to me. “My car?”
The look on Dad’s face tells me damn near guts me.
“How bad?”
“Sorry, son. It’s a write-off.”
A strangled sob slips from my lips.
Pop and I put our blood, sweat, and tears into that car. Now it’s gone, just like that.
The hand gripping mine tightens, and I slowly turn my head, wincing at the pain. My eyes land on a dishevelled Noah, his terrified gaze boring into mine.
“Hey,” he grunts, emotion thick in that one simple word.
“Noah,” I whisper, my brain foggy as I lift my free hand to reach for him.
Tears sting the corners of my eyes as he leans forward, resting his cheek on my palm. It’s rough with stubble, and I slide the pad of my thumb over the gravelly texture.
“We’ll go get the doctor,” Dad says, but I can’t tear my eyes away from Noah.
The door closes softly behind them.
“I’ve never been so terrified in my life,” Noah chokes out, a tear sliding down his cheek.
“Shh,” I whisper, resting my eyes briefly before grinning at him. “You heard my mum. I’m fine.”
He lets out a startled laugh, shaking his head. “This isn’t the time for jokes, Zac.”
“How did you get back here so fast?” I ask. “I thought you weren’t getting back until tomorrow.”
His smile freezes, and he pulls away, averting his gaze.
My stomach drops. “What happened? Did your dad?—”
“It’s not my dad,” he says, still not looking at me.
“Noah—”
The door opens, and an older woman enters, followed by my parents. She smiles kindly at me, but it does nothing to alleviate my unease.
“Hi Zac. I’m Doctor Monroe. Good to see you awake. How are you feeling?”
“Like I was in a car accident,” I deadpan.
“Zac!” Mum admonishes me, while Dad fights to hide his grin.
“Sorry, Doctor Monroe.”
She laughs. “It’s quite all right. It’s good to see you still have your sense of humour.”
“Who said he had one to begin with,” Noah mutters, and I flip him off.
Doctor Monroe approaches my bedside, checking over my chart. “Do you mind if I run some tests?”
