Something isn't fine. Something is very, very wrong.
"You've been stuck here a while," Dad says. "How's your social thingy doing?"
I shake my head, brushing the question away. "I'm here, Dad. I'm home. I don't want to talk about that."
"Home?" he echoes, soft and surprised. A question more than a statement.
"I think," I say slowly, "maybe we don't really know what home is until we've tried to build it out of a hundred temporary places that never quite fit."
Dad studies me for a long moment. "That sounds like something your mother would say."
"I don't know if that's a compliment or not."
He smiles. "Maybe both."
Dr. Kulkarni walks in, effectively ending our conversation. She flips open the chart, her brow pinched in concentration. I wait, silent, but my palms begin to sweat the longer she doesn't speak.
Finally, she looks up, her expression unreadable.
"Mr. Donovan," she begins with a quiet sigh, "you have pneumonia. We're going to start you on antibiotics immediately and monitor your oxygen levels. The goal is to get you home as soon as your labs improve."
"Pneumonia?" I echo.
"It's not uncommon in patients with prolonged illness," she explains. "It sounds scary, but we caught it early. It’s manageable."
Manageable. Right. But it still doesn't feel like something that can be fixed with just a few pills. Not when I've been watching him fade day by day.
Before I can say anything else, there's a knock at the door and Holden breezes in wearing wrinkled scrubs and a smile that doesn't reach his eyes.
"Apologies," he says. "Got held up."
Dr. Kulkarni doesn't even bother hiding her frustration. "You're late. Again."
Holden doesn't respond. He just glances around the room, his eyes briefly landing on me. I look away.
"So he's going to be okay?" I press, needing her to say it one more time.
Dr. Kulkarni's gaze softens as it meets mine. "We're going to take excellent care of your father, Elowen. He'll be home soon."
I nod slowly, gripping that word like a lifeline.Soon.
Dr. Kulkarni exits with a polite nod, leaving Holden behind. He lingers by the foot of Dad's bed, shifting awkwardly, like he has something to say but he knows he probably shouldn't.
Holden glances at me. "You and Brooks now, huh?"
I raise an eyebrow. I don't owe Holden anything.
Holden crosses his arms. "You're not seriously dating that guy, are you?"
"What do you want?" I ask, flat and exhausted.
He hesitates. "I don't know," he admits. "Anyone but him. You deserve better than Brooks."
I bristle. "Do I?"
He falters. "I just… he's not good enough for you."
"Is that so?" I narrow my eyes. "Did you come in here to judge my choices or check on your patient?"
