Page 18 of When Stars Fall

“A few.”

I shift in my seat and suppress a groan at how tight my body is. She’ll have to pry me out. Maybe I can take my mind off my stiffening muscles by inching into a conversation about Ellie. “You and Ellie are still good friends?”

She gives me a sideways glance. “Ellie’s good to everyone on the island with her time and money.”

Not a yes, and not a surprise given the tension between them last night. “You’re not really friends anymore? Why were you at her house last night?”

“I was worried about her, so I went to see her.”

“Worried about her?”

“I thought what you said on Jackson Billows’ show was brave.” She fiddles with the radio.

“Which part?” I ask. “The part where I declared my undying love for Ellie or the part where I admitted that I’d tried to commit suicide after she left me?” When she opened the door to me last night, I expected her to ask about or at least acknowledge that piece of the interview. Again today, I was sure she’d bring it up. Still nothing. Head in the sand approach? Maybe she doesn’t care. Too long ago.

“Both, Wyatt. Both.” Calshae’s expression is sympathetic when she glances at me. “Somewhere, someone watching will be grateful for your vulnerability, even if it doesn’t end up being Ellie.”

Telling the world instead of telling Ellie might not have been the best strategy. Camila says I need to work on my communication skills.

“We’re here. Where do you want to be dropped?”

“Oh.” I take in the massive white stucco structure. “Uh.” I hate when I don’t plan far enough ahead. Happens to me all the time. You’d think I’d learn.

“Would you like me to go in and find out what room?” she suggests.

“Yes!” I point my finger at her with a stupid amount of enthusiasm. “Ellie won’t be happy if people realize I’m here.”

“I’ll be right back.” She disappears into the hospital, and she isn’t gone long before she returns. “Side entrance. Room 237.” She starts the car, checks over her shoulder, and steers us onto the road. “You realize who you’re visiting, right?” A frown creases her brow.

“Yeah. I mean, I know who’s in the room. I’m going so I can talk to Ellie.”

When she draws parallel to the curb, she searches my face before passing me a slip of paper. “For the door. It’s coded. The girl on reception is a family friend and I told her what I needed.”

“Oh.” The small-town mentality across a whole island is unsettling sometimes. None of this would be happening if I was in LA. Well, maybe having a driver, but I would’ve had to throw around celebrity weight to get the rest. Even then, not a guarantee. “Thank you.” I open the door and ease out a leg. My muscles groan in response. When did I get old?

“Would you like me to wait?”

I focus on the entrance to the hospital. Ellie might chase me out with some sort of cutting instrument. “Nah, that’s okay. I’ll convince Ellie to give me a ride to the hotel.” Or maybe to her house. You never know.

“I’m sure you convince a lot of women to do a lot of things.”

“No comment.” I chuckle and climb out of the car.

“Let me give you my number in case you need that ride after all,” she says through the car window, and she holds out her hand for my phone before inputting her number. When she passes it back to me, her black eyes scan my face again. “Good luck in there.”

Once I’m in the side door, the nearest set of stairs is to the left, and I head for room 237. The door is ajar, and Nikki and Ellie are on either side of a hospital bed. I jerk away, unsure. She told me Nikki was in the hospital. If she isn’t sick, who is?

I’m here now, and I’m sure as hell not lurking in the hallway.Flowers. I scan the area for anywhere obvious to purchase something. Poor planning. Again. Except I now realize I have no idea who I’d be giving them to.

I rap my knuckles on the door and walk in without waiting for a response. Nikki turns toward me, and her gasp of surprise is audible. That’s the kind of reaction I wanted from Ellie last night. At least I’m capable of surprising someone.

“Wyatt.” She rounds the hospital bed with a pointed glare at Ellie. Both Nikki and Ellie are a combination of their parents’ physical traits. Nikki got their father’s darker, wavier hair coupled with their mother’s blue eyes. Whereas Ellie got the brown eyes and hair that, whether through highlights or the sun, is streaked with blond.

If Nikki is greeting me, then who is in the bed? The room is large but sterile and without personality in the way most hospital rooms are, and as I stride forward, more of the sleeping figure becomes visible. Ellie turns, and her complexion is pale, stunned.

In the bed is a young girl who is maybe eight. She’s flushed and unconscious. Ellie tries to block my view of her with her body. The child’s identity is obvious. Why is she hiding her?

“This your little girl, Nikki?” I approach the hospital bed.

---