Page 58 of Sebastian

“Yeah. They’re bringing him in now.” It was only then that Damien noticed my sister. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

“Rosalind Clary. Newton’s sister. Who are you?”

I could see Damien mouthing the syllables of my name in confusion. He’d likely never heard my full name before, and even if he had, it was so seldom used that most people forgot the name on my birth certificate wasn’t actually Newt.

“Dami—Daz Roth. Bastian’s brother. Look, you may need to clear out. We’re going to need more space for my brother.”

Just as Damien had stumbled over my name, I noticed my sister equally puzzled by Bastian’s name as she quietly repeated it under her breath.

As though it had been planned, the hospital staff chose that moment to wheel Sebastian’s bed through the door. He was unconscious, lying among a sea of white sheets. His normally healthy complexion looked pale, and there were heavy bags under his eyes along with several places where stitches could be seen on his skin.

The worst, however, was once again his leg. This time, instead of a cast, they had his right leg suspended in full traction. There was also a brace around the ankle and knee of his left leg, but those were barely noticeable in comparison.

He looked horrible, but his chest moved. He was still breathing. That was all I could ask for.

The bed was placed only a few feet from mine, and I rose to go to him, but a hand on my shoulder stopped me.

“Newton, where are you going? You need to stay in bed. And you.” She turned back to Damien. “I’m sorry for your brother, but why are you here? Surely the hospital has enough rooms. They can’t expect patients to share like this.”

The nurse who’d helped bring Sebastian into the room looked between everyone, obviously confused. I felt bad for her. She was being reprimanded by my sister for something she’d been explicitly ordered to do. I’d been caught in the same non-winnable situation many times during my own shifts. It was never fun.

At that moment, however, I didn’t care. I just wanted to get to Sebastian’s side.

“Rosalind, move. I know you’re confused, but right now my boyfriend is injured, and I don’t have the patience to explain.”

I didn’t wait for her to agree and just shoved her aside. She looked surprised to be so easily moved by me despite her significant height advantage. I was stronger than I looked, and years of assisting patients as both a nurse and a paramedic had made me particularly good at moving people who didn’t want to be moved.

There was only a few feet of space between our cots, but my legs were still shaky and I had to catch myself on the edge of Sebastian’s bed to keep from falling over.

“Careful,” Frankie scolded as he helped me sit on the bed properly.

I hovered my hand over Sebastian’s face, too afraid to touch. There were so many little cuts and bruises. Many more than I had, despite living through the same disaster.

The reality of the situation finally hit me. Damien said Sebastian had to jump out the window for us to escape.

Us.

Sebastian had been carrying me when he jumped. He’d probably protected me from the initial explosion as well, based on the discrepancy between our injuries.

That meant his injuries were partially my fault. If I’d only been conscious, I could have made the jump on my own. Even if I broke my leg, it would have been better than expecting Sebastian to carry my weight.

Tears dripped down my face. A few landed on Sebastian’s cheek and I wiped them away before they could soak into his bandages.

“Where’s his medical file? I want to see it for myself.”

The attending nurse tried to stop me, but I grabbed the clipboard from the pocket at the bottom of the bed.

Everything was spelled out so clearly in black and white. Sebastian’s recently healed femur had completely snapped, and the bottom half of his leg was shattered. Several metal pins had been implanted to try and piece the bones back together.

His previously uninjured leg wasn’t great either. A hairline fracture in his ankle and torn tendons in his knee would have been hard enough to heal on their own. With the two legs together, Sebastian would certainly not be walking any time soon.

On top of all that, there were other injuries as well. His previously cracked ribs were damaged again, there were burns over his hands and arms, and his lungs showed severe smoke damage.

In fact, the only injury he didn’t seem to have was a concussion, the one injury I did have.

Between the two of us, we ran the full gambit of pain.

Frankie carefully pried my hands from the clipboard. “Okay, Newt. I think that’s enough for now. You’re smudging the ink.”

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