Page 45 of Rising Star

I kissed the top of her head and hugged both my kids, reassuring them, before Riley led me away to his car.

For the entire ride, I watched the scenery pass by through the passenger window, unable to make sense of the turmoil raging inside my head. Riley spent the time on the phone, barking orders to one and all, discussing press releases and deadlines with June, and calling the hospital to have them ready to meet with us.

“Hang in there, Stevens.” His words reached my ears, then dissipated into thin air.

He clapped my shoulder a few times and said something to me, but I couldn’t hear it. In a state of numbness, I looked at him without computing any word he said. I had no emotions, no fears, no nothing. The whole scene felt like a dream. And none of it seemed real.

Riley stopped the car in front of a door in the basement where no one could spot me. For now, I required a little privacy, and I was grateful to my friend for having set this up. Brent, my head of security, met us there, and we followed him and a nurse through a series of corridors up to an elevator. On the sixth floor, we were brought to a room where the medical team waited for us. I registered only white walls and recessed lighting as we walked toward them. Frigid and cold.

A doctor wearing green scrubs held out his hand. “Mr. Stevens, Mr. Burns, I’m Doctor Bera, the head of surgery, and these are Doctor Connor, the head of orthopedics, and Doctor Patel, the head of plastic surgery.”

The roaring of my heart rang in my ears.

Plastic surgery? My stomach churned. My head spun. Bile rose in my throat. With a step back in an attempt to capture some air to breathe on my own, I closed my eyes to avoid fainting. My hands joined together in prayer over my mouth while I did my best to stay in the now and not come up with scenarios in my head.

Plastic surgery? It crushed my heart just thinking about it. Fuck, how bad was it? Would Madison even survive? I licked my lips, inhaled, and raked my fingers through my hair, trying to keep my cool.

“How is Madison?” Riley asked, and I thanked him mentally for taking over, as all my words were locked in my throat.

“Ms. Prescott suffered injuries all over her abdomen and leg, with metal fragments lodged in the left side of her ribs, pelvis, and thighs. We managed to remove them. In the impact, she banged her head. There’s no fracture of the skull or brain edema at the moment. We are keeping a check on it, but we’re not too concerned about it. Her brain activity is good, and there is no active bleeding. What we are worried about is her left leg. The bones are crushed, and she’s lost a lot of blood. She will be in surgery for some time as we are trying to salvage her limb. But it is touch and go. We are doing our best, but we are unsure if she would need an amputation. With such an extensive injury, infection and sepsis are other things we have to keep a watch for.”

My tongue untied, and words finally passed my lips. “Is she—? Will she—?” Even if I tried, I couldn’t speak those eventualities out loud.

“Right now, we have no idea how it would turn out. She needs to get her limb debrided and her bones set with rods and screws since there are multiple fractures. Her young age plays in her favor, though. Still, if she survives the rounds of surgeries, she’ll have a difficult and painful recovery in front of her. Therapy will be an extensive and long process. Tough on her and on all of you.”

A wave of shock just about collapsed me. My fists clenched at my sides, and my feet dug into the linoleum floor, doing my best to not crumble as pain traversed my body.

“Can I see her?” I asked.

“Not right now.”

"Just once. I need to see her once.”

“Please let us do our job. I know how hard it must be for you, but you have to trust us. We’re doing our best to save her. We’ll keep you updated. Our staff set this room up for you to wait, so you don’t have to sit in the common waiting area. We’re aware if the news leaks out, the media and some unwelcome fans may invade the hospital, and nobody wishes for that outcome. Again, if you need anything, let us know.” The same nurse who was with us earlier entered the room. “Mr. Johnson here will take over.”

The medical team left us as we tried to absorb all the information given to us. Seconds later, Riley was on the phone, back to being a manager, informing June of the latest development in case she had to answer any questions. Then he asked her to be ready to cancel my shows and all engagements for the first two weeks of the tour. He called someone else, but by then, I had blocked all the voices out.

Time idled.

My brain went blank.

Nothing else mattered anymore.

The arms on the clock, fixed on the opposite wall, moved at a sluggish speed. Seconds felt like hours. And hours like years.

All this time, I sat on a chair, leaning forward, my elbows propped on my knees and my face buried in my hands. I refused every attempt at conversation with my friend. And every cup of cheap hospital coffee Brent brought me.

The morning passed in a blur.

The sun wasn’t at its zenith anymore when a familiar figure entered the small room.

“Sam.”

Emily hurried into my arms when I rose to my feet. We hugged for the longest time. “Any development?” she asked when we broke apart. I took in her swollen eyes and reddened cheeks.

I shook my head. “The doctors said something about metal fragments in her body. Left leg being crushed. She’s lost a lot of blood.”

Riley jumped in. “She’d been in surgery for hours. I would have flown in another surgeon, but it turns out Dr. Bera and his team are the best in their field. Madison is lucky they’re the ones in charge. We’re still waiting for an update. When we talked earlier, they said they were trying to salvage her leg.”