Page 48 of After Effect

My eyes drifted back to the nurse. “Hey so… I think I’m feeling pretty much all better. Would you mind waking up my buddy over there so we can get out of here?”

He stared at me blankly. Total disbelief leaked from his expression.

I smiled sweetly. “Pretty please?”

“I’ll… get the doctor.”

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Finch Corbin

Waking up in the hospital felt familiar in all the wrong ways. My body ached. My mouth was dry. Had I aged another year?

… Had I lost another loved one?

I didn’t have the courage to look around. The lights were dim and my mind was such a fog of painkillers and sedatives, I could barely see anything anyways.

I know we had both been transferred here. I was conscious enough for that. But if Lilly wasn’t in the bed beside me, I wouldn’t have the strength to bear it. I can’t look.

I took a deep breath.

Be strong, Finch. Be strong for her.

I tested my limbs and sat up straight once my brain gave me the all clear. I was fine. Nothing broken. Just whiplash. I pressed the call button, then willed myself to turn to the bed beside me.

Lilly wasn’t in it. The room was empty. It was just me and a sterile bed.

I didn’t speak. Just stared at the empty bed. Nothing registered. I don’t know how long I had been staring when I realized the nurse had already come in and was calling my name.

“Where’s Lilly?” My words were barely audible.

The nurse gave me a smile. “She checked out earlier. She’s a bit worse for wear, but she’s alive and healthy.”

Alive and healthy. I released a breath into the atmosphere. “Am I alive and healthy, too?”

“You are.” He responded with a gentle nod. “Though you might be pretty banged up for a bit. You didn’t hit your head or anything, but you seemed to have blacked out as some kind of a trauma response.”

“I was…” I stopped myself there. He didn’t need an explanation. What actually mattered right now was the Bass jumpers Tour. “What day is it?”

“Friday, June 11th.”

“Time?”

He glanced at his wrist watch. “About 1:00PM.”

Fuck, I’m going to be late. But there’s still time. We can still make the show. I put on my best calm and collected persona and looked the nurse square in the eye. “I’ll be going then. Can you retrieve my clothing?”

The nurse’s voice grew frantic. “I think the doctor wanted to monitor-“

“I wasn’t asking your opinion. I’m alive and healthy after all. My suit, please.”

“Please, sir, we need to-“

“Listen to your nurse, Finch.” My eyes shot to the door, where Mark Corbin stood in the entryway. He looked down at me through his narrow eyes, the way he always did. He frowned the way he always frowned. His arms were crossed the way they were always crossed. Unapproachable, harsh, and not open to outside influence.

I paused long enough to collect my wits before I addressed him. There were other people around, so I couldn’t call him Mr. Corbin right now. I settled for the expected moniker. “Father.”

“We need to talk, Finch.” He glared at the nurse. The nurse took the hint without needing further provocation. He scurried from the room.

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