If she had told Parker about the pregnancy, he would have been thrilled. He would have used it as leverage, to make her sayyes,instead ofI need more time.
But then she would never stand on her own two feet financially. Or pay off her own nursing school loans. Or buy a house, just because she had the credit to do it. And she could not get him to understand why that was so important.
The man who was beckoning to her was waving his arms, trying to get her to start moving again. If she ran, now, she could save herself.
Izzy felt Bex reach for her hand. She could imagine the effort and pain that cost the woman, and she gently laced her fingers with Bex’s and squeezed. She leaned down. “You’re going to be fine,” she said. She drew a deep breath, and took another long step forward.
Once, when her brothers had been fighting over who got more spaghetti for dinner, her mother had said,You don’t look at another person’s plate to see if they have more than you. You look to see if they have enough.
Izzy thought of Dr. Ward, bleeding on the floor, still inside. She let go of the handles of the wheelchair, turned, and ran back to the gaping mouth of the clinic door.
—
BEX COULD TELL THE MOMENTHugh realized that she was the woman in the wheelchair. He took a step forward, and as if that had triggered it, Izzy turned and ran.
Bex couldn’t speak. Her eyes filled with tears as Hugh started to run toward her, but before he could reach her side, the paramedics were there, hoisting Bex out of the wheelchair and onto a gurney and loading her into an ambulance. She twisted, trying to see Hugh, trying to reach her hand toward him. But she was surrounded by people who were prodding and poking and shouting at each other.
What if she got taken off to the hospital before she could talk to Hugh?
“What’s your name, ma’am?” an EMT asked.
“Bex.”
“Bex, we’re going to take care of you.”
She grabbed at his arm. “Need to…tell…”
“We’ll contact your family as soon as we get you settled at the hospital—”
Bex shook her head. The double doors started to close, and then suddenly she heard Hugh’s voice. “I have to speak to her,” he said.
“And I have to get her to an OR.”
She, who knew his face better than perhaps anyone, saw the struggle etched in his features—the desire to connect with her warring with the determination to get her treated.
“Hugh,” she managed. “Need…”
He turned, sending her a warning in his gaze. “You need to tell me something, ma’am?” Hugh glanced at the EMT. “I’ll need a moment of privacy,” he said, dismissing the paramedic, and then they were alone.
She swallowed, emotion damming all the words she had thought she might never get a chance to say to Hugh. “Bex,” he moaned, leaning closer, trying to figure out how to embrace her and settling for folding his hands around her own. “Are you all right?”
“Been…better,” she said. “Wren…”
“Is in there,” Hugh finished. “I know. Is she…”
“Alive. Hiding.”
A small sob escaped, and his head bent until his hair brushed her cheek. Bex looked at him and saw the shadow of Hugh as a boy: jackknifed with grief when his dog was hit by a car, frustrated by a calculus problem set, furious when he didn’t make the varsity football team. She wanted to reach out and pull him into her arms like she used to; to tell him that tomorrow would be easier, but she couldn’t. This time, she was the cause of his pain.
“Nobody knows,” he said, his voice a whisper. “Nobodycanknow. Do you understand that? If it gets out that my daughter is inside, I’m off the case. I have no control over the outcome here. Period.” He stared down at her, his eyes dark with pain. “Why, Bex? Why did you bring her here?”
She thought of Wren—the way she smiled and raised her right eyebrow, like she had a secret; how she painted her nails in different colors because she could never pick just one; the time she reprogrammed all the SiriusXM radio channels in Bex’s car after decreeing that her aunt needed to move past the eighties. “She asked.”
Hugh’s hands bit into her skin. She knew he was fighting to maintain control. “Wren needed…she had to have…” He couldn’t force the words from his throat.
“No!” Bex said. “Birth control. She…didn’t want you…to know.”
He closed his eyes.
