Then, just as quickly as it arrived, hope is ripped from me. Reality sets in, and my stomach drops.
He’shurt.
What does hurt mean? How bad is it? What kind of shape is he in? The image of him broken, bleeding, and unconsciousbegins to form at the edges of my mind, pulling me back into the worst version of this reality I’ve been trying so desperately to escape.
“Where?” I manage to gasp, grabbing the closest rescuer’s sleeve. “Where is he?”
“I’m not sure, ma’am, but the helicopter’s on its way to airlift him out.”
Helicopter. They’re getting him out of there. That’s good, right? That should be enough to settle my racing heart. And yet my pulse is still distraught, the nervousness still alive and jumping its way up my throat.
I have to get to the hospital. I need to see him, hold his hand, and make sure he knows he’s not alone.
But the thought of what I might find once I see him… It’s unbearable.
How am I supposed to handle it? How will I stay strong for him if I see him like that? How can I be his strength when all I want to do is crumble?
I can’t be weak.
Then, in the distance, there’s a flash of light and the unmistakable silhouette of the helicopter. They’re getting him out.
Juliette appears at my side. “Knox just called. He’s with him. They’re taking him to Highland Memorial,” she says, already pulling her car keys from her pocket. “Let’s go.”
I nod, unable to speak through the knot in my throat. My body feels weightless, like I might float away if not for Juliette’s steady hand on my elbow guiding me back to the car.
The first rays of dawn are just beginning to streak across the sky, painting everything in a surreal golden light. It feels wrong, somehow, that the world can look so beautiful when every nerve in my body is frayed, ready to snap.
“He’ll be okay,” Juliette says, her eyes fixed on the roadahead. “Callan’s strong.”
I want to believe her. I need to believe her. But the fear that’s been my constant companion for the past two days isn’t so easily dismissed.
The rest of the drive is a blur. My fingers dig into my thighs, my knee bouncing restlessly. I don’t realize I’m holding my breath until the sight of the hospital looms ahead.
Juliette pulls into the emergency lot, but I’m already moving, my hand grasping the door handle before the tires have even fully stopped. My pulse hammers in my ears, drowning out everything else.
I have to get to him.
The moment my feet hit the pavement, I’m running. The automatic doors slide open, and the sterile bite of disinfectant floods my senses. The smell hits hard, twisting my stomach and turning my anxiety into something almost tangible. The emergency room is alive with nurses darting past in scrubs, monitors beeping in a dissonant rhythm, phones ringing, voices murmuring, all of which blend into a chaotic buzz.
I push forward, gripping the edge of the reception desk. “I’m looking for?—”
“Bree!”
I turn at the sound of my name, a jolt of anticipation racing through me, only for my pulse to stutter in a whole new rhythm when I see Knox.
He’s striding toward me with long, purposeful steps, but his face is pale and drawn, his eyes rimmed red.
“Where is he? Is he okay? What happened?”
Knox’s jaw clenches, his lips pressing together. “He’s in surgery right now.” His voice is strained. Tired. “They’re working on him.”
My stomach twists. “Surgery? How bad is it?”
He hesitates. Why is he hesitating?
“Knox,” I whisper, my voice uneven. “Tell me.”
He exhales sharply, like the words physically pain him. “It was bad, Bree. The river took him farther than we thought. By the time they got to him…” He shakes his head, jaw tightening. “Hypothermia. Blood loss. Internal injuries. Broken ribs. His leg is pretty messed up, too. They don’t know the full extent yet.”
