Page 75 of On the Edge

Shit, she was right. I should have done more to look for her after she stopped coming to the center. “I’m sorry, Abby. We need to get you to a hospital. I’m going to lift you, okay?”

“Whatever.”

I scooped her into my arms and stood upright. We exited the alley, and I looked out to the street. “How’d you know her?” I asked Anna. Abby’s body was limp and heavy. Shit, she was passing out.

“I—” Anna’s shoulders shook a little in disbelief as she stared at Abby. “This is all my fault. I got so wrapped up in us this week that I forgot . . .”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I know her. I mean, I saw her outside the center a few times, and I asked the kids about her, but they wouldn’t tell me anything. I should have told you. Oh God, I’m so sorry.” She slapped a hand over her mouth.

“Shit.” I didn’t know what to say, or what to make of her words. Right now, I was too damn worried. “Can you get a taxi for us?”

I tried not to be sick as I stared at Abby in my arms, racked with guilt. A few minutes later, a cab pulled up alongside the footpath. Anna helped me get Abby inside the back of the cab, and then Anna sat next to her, allowing Abby’s body to drape across her lap. I sat up front and shoved money at the driver. “Hospital, and the quicker, the better.”

Anna didn’t say anything as we drove, and I couldn’t bring myself to speak, either. I’d let Abby down.

Yet another regret.

When we arrived at the hospital, the staff rushed Abby to a private room and began caring for her.

“I don’t know how to contact her family.” I clutched Abby’s mobile in my hand. Anna had pulled it out of her pocket when we’d been riding in the back of the cab. “Her phone is locked, so it’s useless right now,” I explained to the desk nurse.

All I knew off the top of my head was her last name and the area of town I thought she was from. The center was closed, so I wouldn’t be able to call there, either.

Anna and I sat in the waiting area, and my nerves twisted inside me. My ankle was crossed over my knee and shaking. Anna rested her hand on my thigh for a moment. Then she reached for my hand, squeezing it.

We waited.

And waited.

I checked with the nurse about every five minutes, but there was never any news.

A doctor headed our way about an hour later, and I rushed over to him.

“She’s okay. She’s stable,” the doctor told me, and I dropped my head, relieved.

“I’ll pay for everything. Whatever the costs—rehabilitation . . .” I rambled, but he held up a hand between us.

“One thing at a time. Let’s get her better tonight, and we can talk to her family about what to do next.”

“I think the nurse finally got hold of her ma, so she should be on her way,” I told the doctor.

“Good. But when her ma arrives, it’ll be up to her if you can see Abby.” The doctor held his hands palms up. “Sorry, those are the rules.”

“Of course.”

If Anna hadn’t spotted her in the alley, I don’t know what would have happened to Abby. I guess it was fate we’d been there. I’d never been a big believer in fate, but with Anna in my life . . .

I looked at her once the doctor left, and she went back to her seat.

“I’m so sorry,” she said softly, her eyes on the floor. “I don’t even deserve to work at the center.”

I sank next to her and lowered my head into my hands, trying to process what had happened. “This isn’t your fault.” I finally looked up and into her glossy eyes. Then I wrapped my arm around her shoulders, tugging her against me. I knew what it felt like to live with blame, and I didn’t want her to live like that, too. “Just next time, know not to trust what teenagers tell ya, okay?”

She nodded, her cheeks red.

“Who are you?” she asked, after what felt like an eternity of silence.

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