Page 85 of Misery and Ecstasy

I didn’t take that into consideration. Draven is probably already giving everyone in the waiting room an earful.

But I remain quiet, silently letting the doctor know I’m adamant that he not say anything.

Once I get to Park and I have more answers, I will get in contact with Draven and Olivia to let them know what’s happening.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

DRAVEN

No one is telling us anything, and I’m about to blow a fucking gasket.

I’m on the edge of my seat, elbows on my knees with my head hanging. My leg bones are about to leap right out of my skin with how aggressively I’m bouncing my limbs.

I was under the assumption we’d be able to go back to see her as soon as we got here, so the fact that we’ve been unable to do so has me worried out of my goddamn mind that something else happened to her on the way over here.

Did she go into cardiac arrest?

Did she have a stroke?

Something much worse than either of those?

I can’t bring myself to wonder if it’s the worst possible outcome. I refuse to accept that as a possibility.

My phone vibrates as another text comes in from Atticus.

I glance at the time before checking the message. It’s now been almost an hour since we first got here.

Clicking on the notification, I bring up my conversation with Atty.

Atticus:

We’re almost there. Any news yet?

Me:

Fucking nothing. I’m about to lose my shit.

“Robert?” Another patient is called back, pulling my attention from my phone.

Rage licks through my body, and this time, I can’t contain it. It’s like fucking déjà vu from the last time we were here.

When they didn’t do their fucking jobs.

“Hey!”Standing up, I shout at the triage nurse.

Both her and Robert look at me in fright.

“Draven…”Olivia hisses at me, grabbing my arm to keep me from approaching the counter.

But I easily break out of her grasp.

“Sir!” The receptionist calls out to me before I’m even halfway across the waiting room. “You cannot act this way. I remember you, and I’m telling you, we will not tolerate this kind of behavior from anyone.”

“Just tell mesomething,then.Anyfuckingthing.Is she okay? Is she awake?” Approaching the receptionist, I beg her for answers.

She looks at me with a mixture of annoyance and compassion.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t have any other information than what I’ve already told you. As you can see, we’re very busy today.”

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