Page 5 of Tough Love

“Oh my God.” I push out of the seat, forcing the nurse backward. “Where is he?”

“Who?”

“The kid!” I damn near shriek.

A couple of people waiting in the lounge area eye me cautiously. Shaking off my coat to try and cool the hell down, I mentally count to five before I explain in a more controlled tone. “My nephew, Briar. He was here….” I check my watch. “Damn it! How long was I asleep?”

“The officer with you took Briar to get something to eat,” she explains, eyeing me cautiously with a frown.

The officer.Of course. Evan.Calm the fuck down, Mimi.

“Thank you. I’m sorry, I-I’m a little disorientated. I must have woken up too fast or—”

“We have news on your sister.”

“You do?” My knees give out, and I sit on the seat opposite where I’d been sleeping.

“Are you able to come with me?”

“But Briar—”

“Is fine with Officer North.”

Officer North.Hearing him addressed so formally—the boy I snuck raspberry liquorice out of the supermarket with as a teen—just seems … odd. “Okay.”

I gather my things up, and the older nurse guides me down the halls, back towards trauma, all the while explaining there was a shift change in the time I’ve been out. I haven’t the slightest clue why I fell asleep, other than the ridiculously long hours I worked to get the Fillersons’ weekend retreat home ready for their daughter’s twenty-first celebrations. The customers demand, I jump. It’s how the arrangement works when their purse is so damn large.

The nurse guides me into an office that seemingly doubles as an examination room. Judging by the clear surface of the desk, yet piles of folders and textbooks on the shelves, I’d say several doctors share this room. It’s small, stuffy, and already I’m plotting how I can get out as quickly as I can.

“The doctor will be with you soon.” Nurse Jolly-and-kind departs, leaving me with nothing but sheer, utter silence.

I lapse into a kind of trance, running my gaze over the taps on the wall, trying my best to guess what each one is for.Oxygen, laughing gas, don’t know, why is that one even there—

“Ms Harris?”

“Please,” I say, closing my eyes. “Call me Amelia.” Ms Harris reminds me too much of Mum, and right now I’m anything but her usual composed and sensible self.

I just want to go home. Alone.

“I’m Dr Jessup.”

I open my eyes and find a middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair standing before me, hand outstretched.

I oblige and shake. He smiles softly and takes his seat.

“Your sister, Katherine, suffered a severe blow to the head in her accident.” He pauses to assess me, his eyes hard and critical as he waits for the reaction that’ll never come. I care, but it doesn’t run so deep as to upset me. With a frown, he continues. “We’re not sure, but we think she may have ricocheted between the door pillar and the steering wheel with the force of the side impact.”

I jam my hands between my knees, back ramrod straight as I hear him out.

“There was some bleeding that we managed to stem, with difficulty, but the extent of the damage won’t be known until we can run a few more tests. As of now, she’s slowly being brought out of sedation, but if there are any unfavourable signs she’ll be put under again to let the brain heal without added strain.”

“Okay.” My voice is small, even in such a tiny room.

He looks at me a moment, in that assessing sympathetic way only trained practitioners can, and frowns again. “I understand this must be hard—”

“I’m sure you’re doing everything you can.”

His expression loses the softness after my interruption. “We are, but as I was saying, if you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

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