Page 96 of Boots & Scars

"And you?" I asked after a moment. "Don't you have some playoff game to get ready for?"

"Tomorrow," he replied, his voice steady. "Something suddenly came up that requires my immediate attention."

I looked out the window, processing his words. The night seemed darker than usual; the streetlights casting long shadows that danced across the pavement.

The drive to the hospital was silent, save for the hum of the engine. Damien's presence, though stoic, felt oddly comforting. He might have had his own reasons for being here, but at that moment, it didn't matter.

We pulled up to the hospital entrance, and Damien brought the car to a smooth stop. The fluorescent lights above cast a harsh glow on everything below, making it all feel surreal.

I glanced at my younger brother. "Thanks," I said quietly, opening the door and stepping out.

Damien gave a brief nod.

I watched as he drove away; the taillights disappearing into the night. Taking a deep breath, I turned toward the hospital doors, feeling the chill of anticipation crawl up my spine.

I steppedinto Everly's room, my heart hammering against my ribs. The place was quiet, the hum of the hospital machines the only sound. I half-expected her mom to be there, hovering like she always did. But the chair by the bed was empty. I wondered if she was coming back.

Everly lay still, her face pale against the stark white of the sheets. Seeing her, face bruised, neck purple, my chest ache. I took a step closer, and her eyes fluttered open. When she saw me, she smiled—a small, fragile thing that sent a wave of relief through my bones.

"You're here," she said in a low voice.

"Sorry, sugar, I was detained."

"I know," Everly cut me off. "Holly told me." She looked away, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of the blanket. "Not the brightest thing, huh? Getting into an Uber? I was going to talk to my mom?—"

"You couldn't have known." I moved closer and took a seat next to her bed, reaching for her hand. "You couldn't have known."

"It feels like every time I try to do something, it blows up in my face," she murmured. Her voice trembled slightly. "Cooper, my father is alive."

Guilt pricked at me like needles. "Yeah, sweetie, I'm sorry?—"

"No." She squeezed my hand, her eyes earnest and searching mine. "Maybe there's a better way to have handled it, but I'm glad you told me. I am."

I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding. "I'm not sure if I am," I admitted.

Everly looked down at our joined hands. "I'm not even sure if I want to see him," she confessed softly.

"What about your mom?" I asked gently.

"Oh." She chewed on her bottom lip before answering. "She left."

"Left?" I echoed, feeling an edge creep into my voice. It surprised me how quickly the anger surged.

"She thought you did this to me," she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil I saw in her eyes.

"Well, sugar, you can't fault her for that," I replied, trying to keep my tone gentle.

"I can, and I will," she said fiercely. Her grip on my hand tightened. "No one gets to talk about you like that. Especially in front of me. I won't tolerate it."

I couldn't help but smile despite myself. The fire in her eyes was something else.

"I told my mother how I feel," she continued, her voice unwavering. "About you. I told her if she can't get over her own biases, then she can leave."

"Now, honey, I'm not sure?—"

"Are you going to tell me I did something wrong too?" she interrupted, her eyes boring into mine.

I paused, searching for the right words. "No," I said finally. "I'll back you. Even if I don't agree with you, even if I don't understand you, I'll back you one hundred percent."

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