the ER staff left behind and two chairs. “Have a seat, sis. They should be back soon.”
“What’s the look for?” I asked Abby, noting the sour look on her face.
“Nothing,” she snapped.
I stood behind her, gently pressing my thumbs into her neck, kneading her tense muscles in small circles. She let out a breath and relaxed.
“Baby,” I said. “Tell me.”
She glanced at Dad, who seemed to already know what she was about to say. “Trenton hasn’t let a girl drive since Mackenzie. The first time he … what she did was selfish. And Thomas,” she caught herself. “Never mind.”
“Yeah,” I said, looking to Dad. “Tommy’s flying in?”
Dad just nodded.
“What about the twins?”
“They were on standby. They’re coming next week.”
“Because he’s going to be okay,” I said, thinking allowed. My eyebrows pulled together as I continued to work on Abby’s neck. “But Tommy didn’t wait? That’s not like him.”
Dad didn’t offer anything more.
A man with a shaved head and baby blue scrubs pushed through the door while pulling the end of a gurney. A woman pushed behind him with one hand, pulling Trenton’s wheelchair with the other. My brother’s eye lit up for half a second when he saw Abby and me, but then it extinguished.
I took over from the woman, her long, blonde ringlets glowed even in the dim room. Her badge read Christy, and beneath that, Radiographer.
“Thanks for the help, Christy,” the man said.
“No problem, Julian. Want me to help with telemetry?” she asked. He shook his head. “Let me know if you need anything else.”
Julian scowled at Trenton. “Only if he insists on tagging along again.”
Christy breathed out a laugh as she headed for the door, her blue eyes sparkling when she turned to wave good-bye. “I think it’s sweet.”
Trenton’s jaw muscles danced beneath his skin, but he kept his eyes forward, a permanent frown on his face. His right arm was propped on his lap, a white hospital blanket used as a makeshift splint. A large ice pack peeked out beneath the thick cotton.
I grabbed the handles of his wheelchair, moving him out of the way while Julian positioned Camille’s bed, locking it into place.
Abby knelt in front of Trenton. “Hey,” she said, looking him over. The white of his right eye was now red, and his face, neck, and arms were speckled with varying degrees of lacerations from the broken glass bouncing around in the Jeep.
I sat down in the chair, planting my elbows on my thighs.
Trenton looked away, his eyes glossing over.
Julian pressed the last button of her telemetry wires into an adhesive patch on Camille’s chest, nodding to us as he quietly exited the room.
“Trent,” I began.
“Not now,” he choked.
“I know what you’re thinkin’,” I said, shaking my head.
“No, you don’t.”
I paused, trying to think of what words would help me if I were in the same position—if it were Abby lying in that bed instead of Camille. I thought about searching for her in the fire, and the sheer pain and fear that came with even the thought of losing her. There was nothing. Nothing could make me feel better in that situation but seeing Abby okay. I scanned Camille’s face, a strange combination of serene, bloody, and pale. “You’re right. I don’t. This fucking sucks, and I’m sorry.”
Trenton’s eyes returned to mine. His bottom lip quivered. “I tried to stop her.”
I gently cupped the back of his neck, leaning my forehead close to his. “We know. She knows.”
A nurse slipped into the room. Deep, double dimples bordered her wide smile. She was chewing a wad of gum the same color as her bright scrubs. “Hi all,” she whispered. “I’m Katie. I’ll be setting Trenton’s arm. I hear he doesn’t want to go to the casting room, so Rosh will be in momentarily with equipment.
Trenton was unfazed.
“Shouldn’t the uh … the doctor set his arm?” I asked.
Katie slapped the X-rays on the viewer and
“What’s the look for?” I asked Abby, noting the sour look on her face.
“Nothing,” she snapped.
I stood behind her, gently pressing my thumbs into her neck, kneading her tense muscles in small circles. She let out a breath and relaxed.
“Baby,” I said. “Tell me.”
She glanced at Dad, who seemed to already know what she was about to say. “Trenton hasn’t let a girl drive since Mackenzie. The first time he … what she did was selfish. And Thomas,” she caught herself. “Never mind.”
“Yeah,” I said, looking to Dad. “Tommy’s flying in?”
Dad just nodded.
“What about the twins?”
“They were on standby. They’re coming next week.”
“Because he’s going to be okay,” I said, thinking allowed. My eyebrows pulled together as I continued to work on Abby’s neck. “But Tommy didn’t wait? That’s not like him.”
Dad didn’t offer anything more.
A man with a shaved head and baby blue scrubs pushed through the door while pulling the end of a gurney. A woman pushed behind him with one hand, pulling Trenton’s wheelchair with the other. My brother’s eye lit up for half a second when he saw Abby and me, but then it extinguished.
I took over from the woman, her long, blonde ringlets glowed even in the dim room. Her badge read Christy, and beneath that, Radiographer.
“Thanks for the help, Christy,” the man said.
“No problem, Julian. Want me to help with telemetry?” she asked. He shook his head. “Let me know if you need anything else.”
Julian scowled at Trenton. “Only if he insists on tagging along again.”
Christy breathed out a laugh as she headed for the door, her blue eyes sparkling when she turned to wave good-bye. “I think it’s sweet.”
Trenton’s jaw muscles danced beneath his skin, but he kept his eyes forward, a permanent frown on his face. His right arm was propped on his lap, a white hospital blanket used as a makeshift splint. A large ice pack peeked out beneath the thick cotton.
I grabbed the handles of his wheelchair, moving him out of the way while Julian positioned Camille’s bed, locking it into place.
Abby knelt in front of Trenton. “Hey,” she said, looking him over. The white of his right eye was now red, and his face, neck, and arms were speckled with varying degrees of lacerations from the broken glass bouncing around in the Jeep.
I sat down in the chair, planting my elbows on my thighs.
Trenton looked away, his eyes glossing over.
Julian pressed the last button of her telemetry wires into an adhesive patch on Camille’s chest, nodding to us as he quietly exited the room.
“Trent,” I began.
“Not now,” he choked.
“I know what you’re thinkin’,” I said, shaking my head.
“No, you don’t.”
I paused, trying to think of what words would help me if I were in the same position—if it were Abby lying in that bed instead of Camille. I thought about searching for her in the fire, and the sheer pain and fear that came with even the thought of losing her. There was nothing. Nothing could make me feel better in that situation but seeing Abby okay. I scanned Camille’s face, a strange combination of serene, bloody, and pale. “You’re right. I don’t. This fucking sucks, and I’m sorry.”
Trenton’s eyes returned to mine. His bottom lip quivered. “I tried to stop her.”
I gently cupped the back of his neck, leaning my forehead close to his. “We know. She knows.”
A nurse slipped into the room. Deep, double dimples bordered her wide smile. She was chewing a wad of gum the same color as her bright scrubs. “Hi all,” she whispered. “I’m Katie. I’ll be setting Trenton’s arm. I hear he doesn’t want to go to the casting room, so Rosh will be in momentarily with equipment.
Trenton was unfazed.
“Shouldn’t the uh … the doctor set his arm?” I asked.
Katie slapped the X-rays on the viewer and
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