“Dispatch to Jennings.”
“Go ahead,” I say, half listening, finishing what I’m doing.
“Be advised. Bellamy Elementary is requesting EMS. Female teacher fainted in a classroom. Name given as Megan Jennings. Transport is en route.”
Everything in me goes still. Then hot. Then cold.
“Repeat that,” I say, already shoving my cruiser into drive.
“Bellamy Elementary. Teacher fainted, possible head impact on the way down. Conscious now. EMS is transporting for evaluation. She’s stable.”
Stable. But hit her head.
“Copy,” I manage, but my throat is tight.
I floor it.
Traffic lights blur. My pulse is louder than the siren. Because stable doesn’t mean she didn’t crack her skull open.
My grip tightens on the wheel. I’ve responded to scene after scene, accident after accident, injury after injury, and none of them have ever felt like this. This is different. This is Megan. Mywife. My whole world.
God, please…let her be okay.
By the time I pull into the ER lot, I don’t even bother parking straight; the cruiser’s at an angle I’ll probably get yelled at for later. Doesn’t matter. I’m inside in seconds.
The air smells sterile and the lights are bright.
A nurse at the reception desk looks up. “Can I help you?”
“My wife,” I say too fast. “Megan Jennings. She was brought in by EMS.”
She nods, clicking through her screen. “Yes, she just got here. Curtain 4.”
I head that way. Ella steps out in blue scrubs, tablet in hand. Her face changes the second she sees me.
“Mason. She’s okay,” she says immediately, like she already knows the words I’m desperate for. “Scared, shaky, a little pale. But she’s okay.”
My shoulders loosen, relief hitting. Not all the way, but some.
I head toward the curtain, pull it back carefully, and there she is.
Sitting up on a gurney. Warm blanket around her shoulders. A small bandage near her hairline.
Her eyes are tired but her whole face softens when she sees me.
I cross the room, scanning every inch of her, looking for other injuries.
“Hey,” I breathe, forehead dipping to hers. “You okay?”
She nods. “I think. I guess I stood up too fast again or something. I don’t know.”
I pull back. “It wasn’t because of any blood or anything?”
“No, I was just putting all the name tags on the desks and—yeah.”
My thumb brushes along the bandage near her hairline. “Hmm,” I hum, confused, even more on edge about all this now.
She leans her forehead against my shoulder. “I’m tired.”
