"Joe Sanders," Danny says.
"I'll check into it," the officer says, "but I doubt he'd do this to his own son."
"He would," Danny and I say at the same time.
The officer looks at us both, then says, "You're free to go." He hands me his card. "Call me if you think of anything else that might help us figure out who did this."
"Let's go," Danny says, walking to his truck.
I hurry and get in the passenger side.
"I can't fucking believe this," Danny says. "What if he really did it? What if he beat up his own son?"
"Drive faster," I say, rubbing my arms to stop the shivering. "I have to see him. I have to know he's okay."
We drive in silence until we're almost at the hospital.
"He'll be okay," Danny says.
"He was bleeding. He wasn't conscious." I look at Danny. "That's not okay. That's serious."
"But Dean is tough. He's been hit on the football field a million times and come out okay."
"This is different. He was attacked. Someone purposely tried to hurt him. Even the officer said it was bad."
Danny parks the truck and I meet him on the sidewalk, practically running on my way to the hospital entrance.
"Wait up," Danny says as I reach the door.
We go inside and I go up to the information desk. "I'm looking for a patient but I don't know where he is. He was brought into the ER this morning."
"ER is down that hallway," the old guy at the desk says. "You'll have to ask someone there."
Danny and I race down the hall to the ER. I see a nurse and stop her. "We're looking for Dean Sanders. He was brought in this morning."
"You'll need to ask someone at the desk," she says, walking off.
Danny races up to the check-in desk. "We need to find Dean Sanders. He was brought here this morning."
"Are you his brother?" the lady at the desk asks.
"No, his friend."
"Sorry, but we can only give out information to immediate family."
"She's his sister," Dean says, pointing at me.
I look nothing like Dean. There's no way I could pass as his sister, but the lady at the desk believes it and looks Dean up in the computer.
"He's been transferred to ICU," she says.
"Intensive care," I say to Danny, tears welling up in my eyes. "It's bad. It's really bad."
"When can we—I mean, she—see him?" Danny asks.
"You'll have to ask the nurses in ICU. Second floor, down the hall to the very end."
We take off for the elevator, then wait for it to open.
