Page 100 of Rule Breakers Fall Hardest

24

ROSIE

Daire slamshis palms on the counter, startling the nurse on the other side.

“Sammy—Samuel Jensen, where is he?”

The nurse taps her keyboard, her attention fixed on the computer screen. “And you are?”

“His father,” Daire pants. “Please. I need to know if he’s okay.”

Sympathy fills the nurse’s face. “He’s been moved to pediatrics.”

“Where’s that?” I ask, gently grasping Daire’s arm.

“Third floor. Take a left and then a right when you get off the elevators.”

I give her a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

When I turn around, Daire’s already jogging for the elevators, so I have to run to catch up.

He holds the elevator doors open for me as I approach, his face a mask of panic. “Hurry.”

I step on beside him and clutch his hand. He tugs it from my hold before I can get a firm grip. A violent wave of embarrassment floods me as he takes a step away.

“Sorry.” He leans against the side of the elevator and hangs his head. “I just… I can’t right now. Not until I know he’s okay.”

I nod in understanding, even if hurt still sits heavy in my chest.

When the elevator opens, he’s running again. My fluffy boots make it impossible to keep up.

He pauses in front of the pediatric doors, panting.

I slide to a stop beside him and study his profile. “What are you waiting for?”

His Adam’s apple bobs, and he turns worried eyes my way. “What if he’s not okay? What if he’s hurt? What if… what if?—”

I shake my head and place a gentle hand on his arm. “Don’t go there. Not yet.”

He sniffles and takes a deep breath that quakes through his whole body. “Okay, okay.” He chants, rolling his shoulder back.

He shuffles forward and pushes the call button next to the double doors, then takes a step back.

A smooth voice echoes through the speaker on the wall. “How can I help you?”

“I… uh… I’m Samuel Jensen’s father. I got a call that there’d been an accident and I needed to get here right away.”

“Oh. Of course.”

There’s a buzzing sound, and then the doors glide open.

The desk is around the corner, lit brightly by the halogens above despite the late hour.

“I need to see your ID first,” the nurse says, standing from her rolling chair.

Daire fumbles in his pocket for his wallet. When he finally gets it out, he hands her the whole thing, hands shaking.

She doesn’t bat an eye, just opens it up and looks from his ID to her computer screen, then up at him.

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