Page 112

35

HARLOE

I hate hospitals.

The overwhelming stench of cleaning chemicals. The constant beep of machines. The muffled sobs that haunt the halls like ghosts.

Dad has been in and out of sleep since I arrived yesterday around noon, and I’ve turned the chair in the corner into a makeshift bed and moping station. He’s sleeping again, but I’ve barely closed my eyes for more than ten minutes at a time. Every time I do, I see that unreadable look on Shane’s face the moment before I walked away.

I angle my head to the window, watching the sun slowly set and trying to imagine I’m anywhere other than where I am.

After Mom was killed and I was shot, I spent a week in this place. Being here now drags me back to those days. The pain—physical and also not. It brings me back to losing her all over again, just like when Ransack burned to the ground.

“I managed to find something that doesn’t come from a vending machine,” Nora says, walking into the room.

Her hair is in as much of a ponytail as she can manage, with pieces falling around her face and neck. She and my brothers haven’t explicitly said they’re taking shifts watching over me, but they visit on rotation, waiting on me as much as they’re looking after Dad.

Nora hands me an apple, but I set it aside.

“You need to eat.” She frowns.

“I will. I’m just not hungry yet.” I’m not anything but numb. “You can take off for the night. I promise I’ll be fine.”

Her pinched expression makes it clear she doesn’t buy my bullshit, but family visiting hours are over, so they’re bound to kick her out soon anyway. They tried to kick me out as well, but I made it clear the only way I’d leave was in handcuffs, so they dropped it, deciding I wasn’t worth their trouble.

Nora grabs my hand. “He’s going to be okay. You both are.”

“Dad’s the one in the hospital,” I remind her.

“Yeah, he is. But I’ve been your best friend since birth, Harloe, and it’s pretty clear he’s not the only one suffering from a broken heart.” She frowns, squeezing my hand again. “I’ll be back in the morning. If you need an escape, just call me, and I’ll be your getaway driver. No more solo running away of any sort for you.”

“At least not unsupervised.”

“Exactly.” She smiles.

Nora pauses at Dad’s bedside before leaving. Like me, her eyes are red and puffy from crying. We practically grew up at each other’s houses, so it’s no surprise she’s visited as often as my brothers over the past twenty-four hours.

When Nora finally leaves, I’m left alone with the beep of the heart monitor. Left alone with my thoughts, which all circle around one man.

“Harloe?” Dad’s voice is strained.

He turns his head, foggy as he blinks his eyes open, and I hop out of my chair, rushing to his bedside. His hand clamps on mine. An anchor when I’ve been floating.

I take a seat on the edge of his bed. “I’m here. It’s okay.”

“You’re tired.” His eyes are hazy but pinched as he takes in my expression.

“You’re one to talk.”

He chuckles, but it ends in a cough. “You shouldn’t be sitting here day and night. Go home.”

Home.

I don’t have one anymore, but he doesn’t know that. “I’d rather stay with you.”

Dad shakes his head. Beneath the dim hospital lights, his wrinkles are deeper. His eyes are dulled to the point that they’re more gray than blue.

“I’m not good company right now. Shane is probably missing you.” He rests his hand over mine.