I hesitate, unsure if it's kindness or cruelty to ask. "Did you... want to come with me?"
Her eyes dart to the hallway. "I—I think I better stay here. Keep an eye on... things."
Things. The word lingers like fog.
I nod, forcing a smile that doesn't quite make it to my eyes. "Okay."
We sit there a few seconds longer, as if maybe time will give one of us the courage to bridge the gap. But it doesn't.
So, I leave. And I realize I'm not upset that Mom didn't come with me.
Maybe it's because I'm starting to understand that some people are made of absence, and some people, no matter how flawed, always show up.
***
The drive is quiet. I roll the windows down and let the warm air curl through the cab, catching strands of my hair and tossing them across my cheeks. I try to anchor myself in the stillness. But every time I chase peace, my thoughts drift to Brooks.
Brooks, of all people.
I don't know when it happened. When the boy who once left me dangling on a zipline became the man whose arms I now associate with safety. But it did. That hug after the zipline... it unraveled something in me. Something real and raw.
When I reach the hospital, the parking lot is nearly empty. I park close and walk slowly through the automatic doors. Familiar faces glance my way—nurses, a few family members of other long-term care patients, even Dr. Kulkarni, who pauses just long enough to give me a gentle update. Dad is stable. Resting still more than usual but eating better. Small wins that feel huge.
When I push open the door to his room, Jasper is asleep in the chair, his head tilted back and a small line of drool at the corner of his mouth.
Dad raises a finger to his lips and smiles when he sees me.
I tiptoe in and perch on the edge of his bed. "How long's he been out?"
"Ten minutes, maybe," Dad whispers, his voice gravelly.
"He looks so young when he sleeps," I murmur, studying my brother's peaceful face.
Dad places a warm hand over mine. "How areyou?"
I let out a long breath. "I'm... okay."
He lifts an eyebrow. "You decided when you're going back to California?"
I glance at Jasper, then back to Dad. "I think I'm going to stay for a while. My manager's handling my place and mail."
"That's kind of her."
"She's good at what she does."
Dad’s hand squeezes mine once, a gesture that feels both fragile and fierce. The quiet hum of the machines is the only sound until Brooks steps in, holding a plethora of brown paper bags in his arms and a smug grin on his face. "Special delivery," he announces.
Jasper jolts upright, swiping at the drool on his chin. "How long was I out?"
Dad and I both laugh as Brooks hands over a bag.
"Not long," Dad says, clearly entertained.
Jasper immediately checks the time. "Crap, I'm late for my video call with Wren." He shoots me a pleading look. "Can I borrow your car? Brooks brought me in the shuttle this morning."
I dig into my purse and toss him the keys. "Don't wreck it."
"I can drive you home," Brooks offers, but Jasper has other plans.
