“I’m fine,” I insisted, though the room tilted slightly as I said it.“I’ve gone longer without sleep.Besides, I doze.When she was a baby, I --”
“She’s not a baby anymore,” Ada cut in.“And this isn’t a colicky night.This is a marathon, not a sprint.You’re no good to her like this.Me and Jag know how to get you here quickly if she or the doctors need you.We’ve got this.”
Knight pushed himself to his feet, his movements slow and heavy.“Ada, I appreciate the thought, but --”
“But nothing,” she interrupted, pointing a finger at his chest.“You’re worse than she is.You haven’t even changed your shirt in two days.I can smell you from here.”
I might have laughed if I’d had the energy.She wasn’t wrong.The sharp tang of anxiety sweat hung around both of us, mixing with the antiseptic hospital smell in a way that turned my stomach.
“I promise I’ll call if she wakes up and asks for you,” Ada continued, her voice softening.“Or if anything changes.Now, go shower and get some actual rest.Do not come back until morning unless I call.”
Knight looked at me, indecision written across his face.I recognized the conflict in his eyes.The same war raged inside me.The terror of being away if something happened versus the knowledge that we were running on fumes.
“Four hours,” he negotiated.
“Nope.You are not to come back before six in the morning.I’d prefer eight, but I know they start stuff early and Brynn will want you here first thing.”
“Eight hours.That’s a full night’s rest,” I said, surprising myself with even that small concession.
Ada shook her head.“Nope.I ran into Dr.Patel on our way up.She’s fully prepared to have you banned from the hospital for a full twenty-four hours if you don’t get sleep.Brynn’s sick.There’s a solution.She’s not in immediate danger.When it’s time for the surgeries, you’re both going to need your strength.Yeah?”
“Fine,” I grumbled.
“I’m talking actual sleep here, Lavender.Not sitting in the lobby staring at your phones.”She gestured to the duffel.“Fresh clothes for both of you.Toothbrushes.Deodorant.Decent shampoo, not that hotel crap.”
Jag moved farther into the room, taking up position in the chair Knight had vacated.“Go,” he said, the single word carrying enough authority that I found myself reaching for my purse.
Knight moved to Brynn’s bedside, his size at odds with how gently he kissed her forehead.His fingers brushed her blue hair back from her face, lingering on her cheek.“We won’t be far, baby girl,” he whispered.“Ada and Jag are gonna keep you company for a bit.”
I stepped up beside him, my heart breaking all over again at how small she looked in that bed.Eleven years old and already fighting battles she shouldn’t have to.I leaned down, pressing my lips to her temple, breathing in the scent of her shampoo beneath the hospital smell.
“I love you too, baby,” I whispered.“Sleep tight.We’ll be here in the morning.”
Brynn didn’t stir.They’d given her pain meds for the headache, and the medication kept her under.For once, I was grateful.If she’d opened those eyes, I wouldn’t have been able to walk out the door.
I straightened, finding Knight’s hand with mine, our fingers intertwining without conscious thought.Ada handed him the duffel, then pressed a keycard into my palm.
“Got you set up at the Ronald McDonald house,” she said.“Less than a block from here.You can walk and not have to worry about parking.It’ll be much faster if there were to be something urgent.”
The thoughtfulness of that detail nearly undid me.I nodded, not trusting my voice.
“We’ll be here at six in the morning.”Knight gave his sister a weary nod as we moved toward the door.
“Now go.She’s not alone.”Ada shooed us out the door gently.“We’ve got her.”
As we stepped into the hallway, Knight’s arm slipped around my shoulders, steadying me.The weight of his familiar touch anchored me as we walked toward the elevator.When we stood in front of the doors, waiting, I let my head rest briefly against his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart.
“She’ll be OK,” he murmured, though I couldn’t tell which of us he was trying to convince.
“I know,” I lied, because sometimes pretending to believe was the only way forward.Deep down, maybe I did know.Ada had always been a good person.I’d hated the separation from her nearly as much as I had from Rhys.
The elevator doors slid open and we stepped inside, watching Brynn’s room disappear from view.Ada and the doctor were right.We both needed sleep.With the biggest part of the battle ahead of us, we needed to take this brief reprieve and recharge.
The house was literally a two-minute walk.Our room door clicked shut behind us, sealing out the outside world if only for a little while.I dropped my purse on the desk chair, taking in our temporary sanctuary.The king bed with a slightly rumpled comforter, threadbare carpet worn thin in paths to the bathroom and door, spoke of harried, worried parents just trying like hell to make it through whatever tragic event caused them to be here.Out the window I could see the hospital across the divided four-lane road separating us.
Knight set the duffel on the bed, his movements heavy with fatigue.“You should shower first,” Knight said, his voice rough with exhaustion.“Might help you relax so you can sleep.”
I nodded, taking the clothes he offered, our fingers brushing.The small contact sent electricity up my arm, a reminder that beneath fear and exhaustion, other feelings still existed.I walked to the bathroom door, hand on the knob, then stopped.The thought of being alone with my thoughts, even for fifteen minutes, pressed against my chest like a weight.
