Page 92 of Shadow Dance

My dreams are foggy, senseless. I come back to consciousness in degrees, wincing at the dull ache in my head and the stuffed-cotton sensation of the painkillers flooding my system.

Is my family here yet? Is Jaime okay?

Cruz, Maeve. His name is Cruz.

Tears slip from my eyes down to the sheet, wetting it. I turn from my side to face the ceiling, wiping my face carefully. Besides the mess of scrapes and multiple contusions all over my arms and face, I have a fractured cheekbone. They’ve got me on all kinds of drugs which is good because this pain is unlike anything I’ve ever felt. A memory of Bria in a hospital bed comes to mind. She’d looked so small, and I’d felt so helpless.

The nurses keep encouraging me to rest, but with my stats being checked every hour, the hospital is the least restful place there is. I finally stopped asking about Jaime because my questions are always dismissed with empty-sounding assurances that he’s receiving excellent care. I don’t know what to say or whom to ask. I have no idea if they know his true identity and aren’t authorized to say anything, or if they really don’t know. Maybe they’re not at liberty to discuss his condition because we’re not family.

“Maeve? You up?” asks a familiar voice.

My heart leaps to my chest. Lucky’s coming toward me, a sad smile underscoring the tired smudges beneath his eyes. “How are you here?” I whisper, trying not to cry. It’s useless.

“I’ve been here. Tristan and I got in last night. We were going to drive up to the house and check on you today, but …” His gray eyes darken. “I guess we were too late.”

“I’m sorry.” The words barely make it past my lips.

“Me too,” he says, pained.

I hear soft voices outside my room, and then my parents walk through the door. Tears fill Dad’s eyes as Mom rushes over, her hands over her mouth. “Mae, oh God. Mae!”

Seeing them so unexpectedly hits me in the gut with a force that steals my breath. I’ve missed them for so long, and I know they’ve missed me, too, that they’ve probably been worried about me. “Hey Mom,” I croak, squeezing her hand. Besides having cottonmouth from the medication, my throat hurts from all the screaming I did.

I still haven’t looked in a mirror, so while I can feel the extent of my facial injuries, I have no idea what they look like. Judging by my parents’ expressions, they’re pretty horrific. Dad sucks in a shuddering breath and comes closer, scanning me from head to toe. He looks like he’s aged a decade, and when I meet his glassy, devastated eyes, all the bratty things I said slam into me. “Hey, honey.”

“Hi, Daddy,” I whisper.

He pauses, swallowing. “We got here as soon as we could.”

“I’m really, really happy to see you guys.” I feel like I can breathe. Having everyone here means things are going to be okay. I reach my other hand to him, and he takes it.

“What time is it?” I ask.

“It’s around eight,” Dad says, glancing at his watch. “In the morning.”

“Lucky called us as soon as he and Tristan found out what was going on,” Mom says, gently stroking my hair with trembling fingers.

“We caught the first flight we could,” Dad says. Reaching to the bedside table, he pours me a cup of water from the pitcher sitting there.

“Where’s Tristan?”

“Grabbing something to eat downstairs.” Lucky folds his arms andleans against the wall. “We’ve been taking turns waiting for you to wake up.”

I pause to take a sip of water. The crying makes my headache worse, but I can’t stop. Besides the nightmare I just endured, there’s nearly a year’s worth of sadness and regret pouring out of me.

“I should’ve listened to my instincts,” he says, closing his eyes. I knew something was going on after that FaceTime.”

“I didn’t want you to get all wrapped up in this, Lucky. You have enough happening back home?—”

“It doesn’t matter,” he says. “You know we take care of our own.”

“What do you think I was trying to do?” I sob.

Mom takes my hand again. “It’s okay?—”

“It’s not.” I squeeze my eyes shut. “Nothing’s okay.”

“Well, it will be,” Mom says firmly, slipping back into her usual self. “We’ll figure this out, okay?”

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