“Hi, Summer. This is Crystal Andrews with Port Harbor Hospital. Your father is being admitted to the ICU for a heart attack. I—”
I don’t hear the rest of it.
Everything goes black.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Ezra
I have never broken more speeding laws in my life, and considering my track record, that’s saying something.
My tires squeal as I take off from the red light I hated to stop at.
Summer sits beside me in the Porsche, her hands folded tightly in her lap as she stares out at the dark road.
Other than muttering “dad” and “hospital,” she hasn’t said anything since the call, and that scares the shit out of me on a level I hadn’t realized I was ever able to reach.
Seeing her break the way she did ... going catatonic, essentially ... fuck, it wrecked me.
I never want to see her like that again. I can’t. I’m not sure I could survive it.
I still don’t know exactly what’s going on, but whatever it is, it’s bad. It’s why I had to help her back into the dress I had impatiently taken off her just hours earlier, put her shoes on her, and lead her to the car. I even had to buckle her in, tears rolling down her cheeks as she refused to look at me.
When I finally pull up to the hospital, I park right in front of the entrance.
“Sir,” the security guard says as I help Summer from the car. “You can’t park here, sir. This is a loading and unloading zone only.”
“Then tow it!” I tell them, tossing them the keys over my shoulder as I trail behind Summer as she practically sprints through the sliding glass doors.
Her sneakers squeak against the floor as she skids to a stop at the front counter. I barely keep myself from running into her. My hip aches, but it’s the last thing I’m focusing on right now. This is all about her.
“Daniel Turner.”
The woman sitting behind the counter raises one perfectly shaped brow. “Is that your name or the person you’re looking for?”
“Yes. Wait, no. Yes. I—I—I—” She huffs. “I don’t have time for this!”
Oh fuck. She’s losing it.
I step up behind her, placing my hand on the small of her back. She leans into the touch for only a moment before jerking away, almost like she’s catching herself doing something she shouldn’t be doing.
I pretend I don’t notice as I turn to the receptionist. My eyes flash to her name tag.
“Good morning, Drea.” She smiles at me, and I know right away she’s more likely to listen to me than to Summer. “We’re looking for Daniel Turner.SheriffTurner.”
“And you are?”
“I’m Ezra. Rawlings. This is Summer, his daughter.”
“You’re his daughter?” the receptionist asks Summer.
She nods, her lips trembling as she holds back tears.
I fight the urge to reach out to her, to make sure she’s okay. “We received a call that Daniel was admitted here. Can you help us sort out where he is, Drea?”
“All right. Let me see.” Her nails clack against her keyboard, her eyes flying over the screen. “Right. He’s still in surgery.”
“Surgery?!” Summer shrieks.
