Page 6 of When the Smoke Clears

We only sit quietly for a few minutes before Izzy and Leah barge into the silent room.

Izzy’s ice-blue eyes are wild. “Where is she? Is she ok?” She clasps a hand tightly to Leah’s. Leah looks less panicked, but her eyes bounce between Nick and I.

I rise quickly from my seat. “She’s in surgery—”

“What!” Izzy shrieks and Leah releases her hand, wrapping her arms tightly around her friend.

Nick stands. “I know this is a scary situation, but Maci’s in the best place she can be. You two can wait with us.”

Both women visibly relax at his calm demeanor.

“What happened?” Leah asks, still deciding which of us to look at.

I take a deep breath. “Colt attacked Maci at Ruthie’s. She had to defend herself, but he managed to stab her in the process.”

Leah’s arms fall from Izzy, whose hand flies to her mouth. I continue as calmly as possible, hoping that the more at ease I am, and the more information they have, the better they’ll feel. But I’m dying second by second, so doing that for them takes everything I have.

“The knife was still embedded when I got to the house. We didn’t want to cause any more bleeding, so we waited to remove it and the doctors said they would do it in surgery as a precaution. For the same reason.”

“Oh my God,” Izzy whispers.

“How long has she been in surgery?” Leah, usually the wild one, seems to be the levelheaded one tonight. Meanwhile, Izzy, normally practical, is on the verge of a panic attack.

“Maybe thirty minutes.”

“There’s coffee,” Nick offers, and gestures to the long counter behind them.

“Thanks. Come on.” Leah grips Izzy’s hand and leads her over to grab their own terrible cups of coffee before they join us on the tattered chairs.

Chatter is at a minimum. We take turns pacing, sitting, checking the clock, commenting on the time, and asking each other questions none of us actually know the answer to, like, “How long do you think it will be?” or “Do you think something’s wrong because it’s taking so long?”

At some point, we all manage to sit at the same time. Leah and Izzy take up the lone extra wide seat, tucking themselves together. I stare, unblinking, at the water-stained tile ceiling. Nick’s leg bounces in a slow rhythm next to me, bumping my chair periodically.

Around the two-hour mark, Maci’s nurse swings the waiting room door open wide, causing me to jump up out of my seat. She gives me a soft smile. “If you want to come with me, I’ll show you to her new room. She’ll have a different nurse. I don’t work in Recovery.”

I nod. “Thank you.”

She looks at the group of us. “Visiting hours are over, so only family.” Her head tips my way as if to indicate me.

Izzy and Leah exchange a glance. Leah nods and Izzy says, “We’ll wait here for an update”—I start to open my mouth, but she continues—“no matter how long it takes.”

“I’ll hang out, too,” Nick adds.

I dip my chin in acknowledgement and turn to the nurse. She leads me to the elevator and down a long hallway. Maci’s room is the last one, and she’s tucked under several thin blankets. Her features are soft, her eyes gently closed. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was sleeping peacefully.

“She’s been in and out a little already. She’ll be groggy for a bit. The doctor will come in later and update you both.”

“Thank you.” I don’t look away from Maci, pulling a stiff chair to the side of the bed. I wrap my hand around hers and hold onto her for dear life.

Chapter 3

Maci

Everypartofmehurts. Which makes sense, considering a two-hundred-pound guydidfall on me after trying to slice and dice me.

The tension of the whole thing seeps into my bones. Peeling my eyelids open intensifies the dry burn. My throat hurts, but I don’t know why because I didn’t scream.

Sutton rubs light circles on my hand, sitting at my side. He perks up, realizing I’m awake.

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