Page 164 of Rookie Attraction

His words make my chest draw in tighter.

“Same. But that’s not helping.”

“I don’t know your mom,” Sel replies. “But if she’s as stubborn and determined as you, she’s a fighter.”

I make a choking sound, somewhere between a laugh and a sob.

“She is.”

“I want to put something out there, but you don’t have to answer now. Once I’m done with our last game in Minnesota, I can make a stopover in Omaha if you need me. Before I head on to California. The only reason I was going back to New York was to see you.”

“Baby,” I whisper. “You’d do that?”

“Only if you’re comfortable. Take your time and think about it.”

Suddenly, my flight number’s called out on the loudspeaker.

“I gotta board. I’ll text you when I get to the hospital and I know more.”

“Safe travels. I love you.”

My throat starts to close over but I manage to find the words.

“I love you too.”

Ending the call, I grab my carry-on and line up to board, but I’m fidgeting so hard and with my tear-stained face, the guy at the check-in counter asks if I’m okay.

“Family emergency back home.”

He nods in sympathy. “I’m sorry. Is there anything we can get you?”

“A faster airplane?”

He gives a shrug. “Unfortunately, all I can do is confirm that it’s good weather today, so you should arrive on time or early.”

“Early would be more than welcome.”

That’s the last thing I remember before stepping onto the plane. The actual flight is a blur. I know there’s turbulence, but I’m so numb it hardly registers. Not the shaking of the plane, not who’s sitting beside me, or how much time passes. I can’t watch a movie or eat or do anything but close my eyes and clutch the armrests.

The only time I pay attention to what’s going on is when the pilot makes the announcement that we’re landing shortly. I glance at my phone and realize three hours have gone by. We made good time. The shock is starting to wear off, though, and so is my patience. When the wheels touch the tarmac, I become that annoying passenger who stands up before the seatbelt sign is off, grabbing my stuff and racing down the aisle. The sling on my left arm helps, because most people are seated and the ones who aren’t give me a wide berth. Well, the sling and my size. I’m not the biggest hockey player, but I feel like a giant on this plane.

The rideshare takes half an hour to get to the downtown hospital. I text my dad as soon as I step inside the building.

Finn: Arrived, what room number?

Dad: H wing, 527. Will’s here now. Everyone else has already dropped by before taking shifts back home.

I make a beeline down the maze of hallways until I locate the H wing. The elevator’s slow and crowded, so I fit into a corner, doing my best to keep my left arm protected. As I step off the elevator and make a right, I spot my brother wheeling himself into the hallway. He’s got a hospital gown, a mask, and gloves on, but as I approach, he removes them and reaches for the hand sanitizer.

“Will!” I call out.

He wipes his hands and rolls towards me, and I jog over, meeting him halfway. I lean down and give my older brother a tight hug with my good arm, both of us trembling.

“How’s Mom?” I ask.

Will leans back and presses his lips together. His green eyes are bloodshot, his thick hair sticking up on end.

“She’s in protective isolation.”