Page 66 of One Last Promise

“Starved,” said Moose, who also wore a bandage on his forehead. He walked over to Tillie. “They want to get X-rays of Hazel’s leg, see if there is any structural damage.”

Oh. Uh. “I don’t . . . I don’t have insurance information for her,” Tillie said. Or, for that matter, insurance.

Moose nodded. “I get that. Because of all the accidents that happen here in the summertime, the hospital has a flat fee for standard exams, including X-rays. But I can see if they can waive?—”

“No. I can pay. I just . . . I’ll figure it out.”

“I think we can give you the Air One medical grant,” London said, and Moose’s eyebrows rose.

“There’s an Air One grant?”

“There is now,” London said, and winked at Tillie.

“Go ahead with those X-rays,” Moose said to the intern.

Tillie drew in a breath but nodded.

“The doctor would like to admit you too,” said the intern as he dropped his suture tools onto a tray. “You didn’t pass the concussion protocol, and he wants to keep an eye on you.”

“No, that’s not necessary.” Although, if she were to guess, yes, she had a concussion, given the thrum in her head. “Hazel and I will be fine.” Except, really, she didn’t have a place to stay, unless . . .

“My mom has probably baked cookies for us all,” Moose said, his gaze on Tillie.

She nodded.

The intern walked over to a wheelchair. “Hazel, want to go for a ride?”

Hazel climbed into the wheelchair.

Hazel glanced at Tillie.

“I’ll be herewhen you get back.”

“Thanks, Bear,” said Moose and clamped the intern on the shoulder. “Great to see you back here.”

“Good to be back.” Bear wheeled Hazel down the hall.

“You can wait in the family area,” said a nurse. She patted the intern as he walked by with Hazel, a sort of motherly gesture. “I’ll bet that pizza is getting cold.”

Moose helped Tillie off the table, and she needed it because the world spun, just a little.

Or a lot.

They walked down to the family waiting area, a small room with an orange faux-leather sofa and a table and a television on the wall, set on some news station.

She settled onto the sofa while Shep opened the pizza box. “I hope you like pepperoni and onions. This was an extra that Levi had in the back.”

“It’s pizza,” Moose said and took a piece. “Tillie?”

“I might throw it up,” she said.

He sat down next to her. “Are you sure you don’t need to be admitted?”

“I don’t know. Probably not. Just a headache . . . probably from the stress.”

“Or a concussion. I think you should get checked out.”

“I’ll get you some soda.” Shep left the room, probably on that errand.

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