Page 186 of Skate the Line

I’ve calledher at least a dozen times, and each time, it goes to voicemail.

The hospital got a hold of my manager as soon as Sunny came in because I put myself as her emergency contact from the last time we were there.

There hasn’t been much information since, though, and with each minute that passes, the dread gets heavier.

Knots form in my stomach when the airplane lands. I call Sunny’s phone again, only to be disappointed when she doesn’t answer. I have multiple messages from my teammates, all saying something semi-comforting, with the exception of Emory and Malaki who are demanding information.

Despite the snow, I make it to the hospital in record time.

I slam my truck into park and rush toward the doors, only to stop when I recognize Marco’s car. It isn’t until I round the side of it that my heart falls. It’s banged up on the driver’s side. The window is shattered, and the backseat door is caved in.How did the car get here?

I pull my hood up to hide from the cold and head inside. Embracing the warmth, I go right past the security guard and over to the ER window.

I’m not sure if I’m recognized, and that’s why people are parting to give me a path, or if it's because they see the panic and determination on my face, but regardless, everyone moves out of my way.

“Sunny Edwards.” I tap my fingers on the counter. “Where is she?”

The woman clearly doesn’t care for my demand. She rolls her eyes and flips through a paper. “Sunny?”

Wait.

“Allison. Allison Edwards.”

“Oh. Her.”

I don’t have time for this. “Yes,her.” If someone doesn’t point me in the direction of Sunny in the next second, I’m going to lose my mind. “Where is she?”

The woman sighs. “She's over there. Can you please convince her to let us take a look at her? She’s stubborn?—”

I turn, and everything around me disappears.

My heart moves behind my ribcage with something I can’t explain.

It takes me seconds to make my way over to them, but an entire lifetime passes.

There, sitting in the corner of a crowded ER, is my daughter curled up on the lap of one of the purest, most kind-hearted women I have ever met, safe and sound.

I stand in front of them and stare for so long people start to murmur.

Ellie is pressed against Sunny’s shoulder, and Sunny’s cheek is smooshed on top of her head. Both of them are sleeping with a coat that I don't recognize draped over their bodies like a blanket.

“I covered them up,” an older woman whispers from a few chairs down.

I glance at her, my mind swimming with thoughts of the future that havenobusiness being there.

“She’s a tough cookie.” She inclines her head to Sunny and Ellie.

I furrow my brow. Which one?

“Is she your wife?”

I open my mouth but say nothing because the answer that wanted to come out wasyes,and that’s enough to make my knees weak.

Wife? No.

“She refused to leave your little one. She’s in pain, though. I’ve watched her wince in her sleep a couple of times.”

Your little one.

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