Page 34 of Silk and Steel

I open my mouth to say something snarky back, but then close it. He’s right. I can always find ways things could go wrong.

“Try and picture a pond,” he says.

“What?”

“Please, just close your eyes and try it.”

I sigh and close my eyes.

“Fine, I’m picturing a pond.”

“How does it look?”

“To be honest, the water’s all churned up. More like the sea at storm than a pond.”

“That’s understandable. I want you to imagine that turbulence dying down, the water growing calmer, and calmer, and calmer…”

He slows his voice and drops his pitch as he speaks. In spite of myself, it works. I picture my inner pond growing increasingly placid. When the waters are calm, I’m still scared for my Dad, but I can deal with the fear. It’s not overwhelming me any more.

“Pretty neat trick,” I say in a tight voice. “You learn that from your instructor, too?”

“No.” He shakes his head, eyes growing distant. “I learned it from an old friend of mine.”

We make it to the hospital at last. Instead of going to the parking garage, Cole pulls up by the emergency room entrance.

“Go,” he says. “I’ll find you.”

“You aren’t worried about me?”

“Of course I am, but the police are watching this hospital closely. There’s an organized crime figure getting heart surgery here.”

He indicates the heavy police presence both outside and inside the hospital. I hadn’t even noticed them. I guess I really was wrapped up with worry for my father.

“Thanks.”

I turn away from him and run into the hospital. I try to ask for help at the ER desk, but they stubbornly refuse to even glance at their screen. They send me to the main reception desk instead, which is in a different part of the hospital.

The main reception desk checks for my dad’s name, then looks up at me.

“Your father has recently come out of surgery.”

“Is he going to be okay?”

She purses her lips into a frown.

“He’s out of surgery, that’s all the information they have shared with me. Your mother is in the waiting room on the seventh floor.”

That’s all I need to hear. I rush to the elevator and jam the number seven button. Much to my chagrin, the elevator car stops on nearly every single floor to let more people on.

At last, I reach the seventh floor. I rush around the hall like an idiot until a kindly nurse spots me and points me in the right direction.

I find my mother pacing back and forth in front of a window. She looks so much older than she did the last time I saw her, just the other week.

“Mom!”

I run to her and we hug each other tight. We stand there for quite a while, sharing the tears and the fears in equal measure.

“Is Dad going to be alright?” I ask.

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