Page 127 of The Hallows Queen

Taking a shaky breath, I look at her, asking something of her I know I probably shouldn’t. “Will you come with me?”

She finds my eyes through the darkness. “Yeah.”

* * *

When we getto the hospital, we race up to my father’s floor and to the nurses’ station.

“Is he dead?” I ask in way of greeting, and the nurse looks at me like I’m insane.

“Who?” she asks, not recognizing me from the other day.

“Sorry.” I take a breath. “James Monroe. I’m his son.”

She gives me a sad smile. “Let me call your father’s doctor.”

“So, yes? He’s dead?” I say, my gut dropping to the ground. “That’s what you mean, right? Because the doctor has to be the one to tell me.”

Penelope’s hand rests on my lower back while the nurse dials some numbers on the phone, and I feel tears filling my eyes. “Just give me a minute, and I can get an update, okay? Why don’t you sit down?” She waves her hand to the chairs lining the wall.

“Okay,” I breathe, blinking back my tears as I walk over to the chairs and sit down, Penelope sitting next to me.

“Are you okay?” she whispers, and I can feel her staring at me. I don’t look back, though. I just nod my head slowly.

After a minute, Dr. Michaela comes down the hallway, and I spring up to meet her. She grabs my hand, then wraps the other on top of it as well. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Monroe. We lost him ten minutes ago.”

I squeeze her hand as tears finally spill over my eyelids and onto my cheeks. Penelope’s hand finds my lower back again, and it makes more moisture drip down my face.

“If there’s anything you need, we’re here, okay? Would you like to see him?” she asks tenderly.

I nod, brushing my wet cheeks. “Sure.”

“I’ll wait here,” Penelope says, and I find her eyes, needing the strength I know I’ll find in them. We stand there for a moment, our gazes connecting like a magnetic pull is growing between us, and when I finally feel confident enough, I turn to face the doctor.

She leads me down the hall to my father’s room, where the lights are dimmed, and the blinds are drawn. The machines are still on around him, but they no longer make noises to indicate a heartbeat. His body is still and lifeless underneath the sheet they’ve pulled up to his chest, but he still looks likehim.

I sit down in the chair at his bedside, the same chair I was complaining about this morning, and grab his hand.

“I’ll leave you alone with him. I’ll be just outside the door,” Dr. Michaela says, and I look up at her to nod. I can’t find any words to say, so I hope nodding is enough, and when she leaves the room and the door shuts behind her, I let myself sob.

“You were such a bastard for so long.” I sniffle, squeezing my father’s hand. “And by the time we were finally okay, you had to go and die? How is that fair to me? How is that fair toyou?”

I shake my head, wiping a hand down my face and taking a deep breath.

“I love you, Dad. Even though you didn’t love me for too long.”

I stand up, lean down and kiss his forehead, then I leave the room. Dr. Michaela is there, and she reaches out for me, holding my hand again. “Again, Mr. Monroe, I am so sorry.”

“Thank you.” I nod, swallowing back my emotions. “What happens now? What do I need to do?”

“There’re a few things for you to sign, then we have people who can help you with funeral arrangements, getting him transferred and stuff like that. Is that something you want to do today?”

“Yes, please,” I answer, taking a deep breath. “I need to get back to California, so I would like to get this done as quickly as possible.”

Part of me realizes that may sound a bit heartless from the outside looking in, but I’m feeling so much anxiety creep into my stomach, and I just want to get thefuckout of Luxington. I never want to come back here; I want to forget about every bad thing that tainted this town for me.

“Of course,” Dr. Michaela says. “I’ll get things moving for you, okay?”

“I appreciate it.” Trying my best to smile at her, I watch as she heads to the nurses’ station and sits down at a computer. Penelope walks over, putting a hand on my arm.

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