Page 49 of After We Fall

She wants to know who she can call on my behalf?

That’s not an easy question on a good day. But today?

Today, the answer to that question is impossible. I don’t dare contact my adoptive family. Unfortunately, this includes Jason. I can’t know if he’ll call Phillip and Cynthia. The senator’s expectations, presumptions, and personal entourage are hard enough to deal with on a normal day. And with Meredith and Harlan on the last day of their honeymoon, and Harlan’s family away from the ranch on vacation, I’m left with limited acquaintances.

Or Luke.

Another wave of nausea rolls over me. Only this time, I can’t attribute it to the head injury. This time it’s the built-like-a-brick-wall man who ordered me not to approach Finley without him.

Apparently I went against his instructions and met her at her place of work. I still can’t remember what happened. Evidence in this ER leads me to believe it went wrong. Very wrong.

“Ma’am?” The nurse tries again. “We’ll be taking you down to CT soon. It might be good to notify someone now so they can be here when you return to the room.”

Luke? At the hospital with me? I close my eyes. How humiliating.

But maybe I can talk to him without this being a big deal. I need to make sure someone checks on Bianca and Tanya at the ranch. I will call him and focus on the girls.

“Can you please hand me my phone? It’s in the inside front pocket of my purse. I think the paramedic told me it made it to the hospital.”

She crouches low and rummages underneath the bed. There must be storage down there. “Found it,” she says as she stands.

Words have started coming easier. And the pain isn’t radiating through me anymore, instead stalling at a dull roar. I can’t receive pain meds because the extent of my head trauma is unknown. But thank goodness my neck and back are stable, and I’m no longer lying on that uncomfortable board.

My head, on the other hand, seems to be causing everyone a considerable amount of stress.

My lack of short-term memory alone seemed to get me on the CT schedule quicker than the blood from my previously gushing wound.

The nurse hands me the phone, and I glance down. Because I already know there are square apps filling the screen, I can almost make out the edges of the shapes. But everything else is just a frayed mishmash of colors. I blink, but refocusing does me no good.

My blurred vision also sped up my CT orders.

“It’s no problem for me to make the call for you, Miss Reid. Would you like me to relay the information to someone?” the nurse asks.

“No, thank you. I’d like to do the talking. But I can’t make out what’s on my screen. Would you please dial the number for Luke Granger? He’s in my contacts list.”

After she dials, she hands me the phone. Only my shaky hands can’t hold it steady, and I almost drop it.

“I’ll just put it on speaker,” she says as she pulls it back, punches a command, and sets it on the tray in front of me.

Another nurse pokes her platinum-blond head in the room. “Can I borrow you for a moment?” she asks her colleague.

Both nurses leave as my cell rings through to Luke, and I inhale, gathering any scraps of composure that I didn’t leave on the grocery store sidewalk.

I can do this. This doesn’t have to be an ordeal.

“Granger.”

The moment Luke’s strong, confident voice fills the room, tears hit the backs of my eyes. Because the reality is this is an ordeal.

I’m in trouble.

And I don’t know what to do.

“Penelope?” he calls to me, demanding an answer.

“Luke.” My voice trembles, and I close my eyes. Pull it together, Penelope. Please.

“What’s wrong?”