Page 57 of Doctor Hot Mess

His words hang in the air, heavy with guilt he’s clearly carried for years. I lean closer, pressing my forehead to his shoulder. “Like you said, the good, the bad, the stupid—it all shapes us. I'm sure he is smiling down on you, proud of the man you've become.”

He exhales slowly, his arm tightening around me. “Maybe,” he murmurs. “But sometimes I don't feel like I deserve anything good.” My chest tightens, the weight of his words sinking in. “Jonah...”

“I shouldn’t have pushed him to do it,” he says, cutting me off gently but firmly. “He didn’t want to go, but I kept at him. I thought... I don’t know what I thought.”

“You were a kid,” I say, my voice steady but not dismissive. “You couldn’t have known.”

He’s quiet for a moment, his hand stilling on my arm. “Doesn’t stop it from feeling like it’s on me. And that’s just one scar. There are others—some you can’t see.” He looks at me then, his gaze steady but guarded, like he’s offering me a glimpse into a part of himself he rarely shares.

I reach up and brush my fingers along his jaw, grounding him. “You carry so much, Jonah. Sharing that was brave. I can see that it is still painful.”

He shakes his head slightly, a faint, self-deprecating smile tugging at his lips. “I don’t feel brave. Honestly, I've never told that story to anyone who didn’t already know Dell and what happened.” His voice softens when he says his friend’s name, and the sound of it makes my chest tighten.

I let my fingers drift lower, tracing the edge of the tattoo near his ribs before leaning in to press a gentle kiss to it. He exhales, his body relaxing slightly beneath my touch. Then I move up to kiss him on the lips, hoping to say what words can’t.

When I pull back, I meet his eyes. “Thank you for trusting me with that.”

TWENTY-ONE

Jonah

Wednesday, March 4

UAB Hospital

11:38 AM

I’m headingtoward the elevator when I notice two uniformed officers standing at the nurses’ station. Their presence is unusual enough to catch my attention, but it’s the name that makes me stop in my tracks.

“Lila Bellinger,” I hear one of them say as he scribbles something on the small pad in his hand.

The sound of my sister’s name coming from the taller officer pulls me up short. I step closer, just out of their line of sight. My ears strain to catch the conversation.

“Our detectives were able to trace her to this emergency room,” the officer says. “We’re looking for her in connection with an ongoing investigation.”

I feel a sharp tug of anxiety but force myself to move, to approach the station as though I didn’t just overhear their conversation. My voice is steady when I speak. “Officers, I’m Dr. Jonah Bellinger. Can I help you?”

Both officers turn to face me, their expressions polite but guarded. The shorter one speaks first. “Dr. Bellinger, we were hoping to find Lila Bellinger. Do you know where we can reach her?”

My stomach tightens, but I keep my face neutral. “She’s my sister,” I say carefully. “Why are you looking for her?”

The taller officer exchanges a glance with his partner before responding. “We’re investigating a recent string of crimes, and her name came up during our inquiries. It may be nothing, but we have to follow every lead. We need to ask her some questions.”

“Crimes?” I repeat, disbelief threading through my voice. “You’re mistaken. My sister wouldn’t?—”

“We’re not here to make assumptions, Dr. Bellinger,” the shorter officer interrupts, his tone even but firm. “We just need to speak with her. Will you please tell us where to find her?”

I frown, the tension in my chest tightening. “I'm sorry, I can't until you tell me what this is about.”

“I’m afraid we can’t share specific details with you,” the taller officer says, his tone firm but polite. “I'm sure a quick conversation with this will clear everything up.”

I glance around, noticing the sideways looks from nurses and colleagues nearby. The last thing I need is for this to become hospital gossip.

“She’s not here,” I say finally, my voice clipped. “She’s been staying with me while she recovers from an assault and then a subsequent collapsed lung.”

The officers exchange another glance, and I can feel the weight of their scrutiny pressing down on me.

“Can you confirm where she is now?” the shorter one asks.

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