It’s a stupid question, they’re doctors, and they’ve gone to school for an awfully long time for some random college kid to question them, but since Tate’s staring damn near catatonically at the doctor, I have to ask.Someonehas to ask.
Both the doctor and Nurse Dave nod slowly. “I’m sorry, but yes, we’re sure.”
They keep talking, but it’s hard to keep up. I try my best to take in the information because Tate’s going to need to be told itagain, I can tell from the vacant expression on his face he’s not here.
I can only hope Dad’s making a mental note of whatever else they’re saying because I need to be here for Tate, he’s all that matters right now. I just don’t know what to do. Should I?—
“Can I see them?” Tate’s found his voice, but it doesn’t really sound like him, it’s distant, hollow, devoid of emotion.
“Absolutely. Dave will take you to see your parents.”
I wipe my cheeks, trying not to make a scene. Ultimately, this isn’t about me, this is about Tate, and he needs me to be strong whether he knows it or not. I don’t want to make this moment about me and my feelings, though it’s hard not to face the realization that Dad could have died when Tate’s Dad checked him on the ice. In fact, he could die at any moment, any of us could.
I lock eyes with Dad behind Tate, his face is creased with worry, his eyes weighted with sorrow. I want things to be better with him. If I needed the reminder that life is short, I guess I just got it. It’s time to make amends and forgive Dad before it’s too late.
Tears refill my eyes, and my jaw trembles. I have to pull it together. At some point Tate will come out of this auto-pilot haze he’s in, and he’ll need me. He will. He can’t walk around in this cloud of shock forever, it’ll wear off, it always does in the movies, and when it does, people break down.
The two men in front of us turn to the door, but Tate doesn’t move, he’s frozen in place. While he takes a moment, I whip my phone out and message Apollo.
Me: 9-1-1. It’s bad. Get here ASAP.
Tate might not want anyone here, but if he does, Apollo, their leader, the heart of their team is likely who he’d call. I think? I guess? I fucking hope. Because he’s who I’ve got.
When we step out of the family room, the man himself is already here. Apollo is leaning against the wall facing the door. One leg is bent, foot flat on the wall, arms folded, eyes full of sadness.
He knows.
He’s here, and he knows.
Apollo pushes off the wall and walks toward us. With me on one side of him, and Apollo on the other, Tate walks the endless corridor under fluorescent lights to say his final goodbye to his parents.
CHAPTER 35
Tate
When I woke up this afternoon, my whole body knew something was wrong. Intuition, premonition, superstition, whatever it was, whatever you believe in or want to call it, I knew. As sure as I know the sun rises in the east, somewhere deep inside my body a small voice whispered something was terribly wrong.
But this?
How could things bethiswrong?
I’m vaguely aware that I’m not alone. Penelope has my hand gripped tightly in hers. Our hands are held together by her iron-clad grip and sweat. Either one or both of us has slick palms and we’re stuck together.
Apollo holds my other hand, he hasn’t said a word since we picked him up outside the room in which the doctor told me my parents were dead. I don’t know how he got here, or when, or how long I’ve been standing staring at the door to the trauma room Dad’s cold and lifeless body is inside, but I know Apollo is here.
“Do you want me to come in with you?” Penelope’s voice is quiet, shaky, and full of grief.
A shake of my head tells her no. “Thanks, though.”
This is something I need to do by myself, alone.
Fuck.
I am alone.
No amount of swallowing pushes the lump down in my throat. I can’t will my feet to move, my hand to turn the handle, my brain or heart to acknowledge what the doctor just told me.
I am an orphan.
