Page 120 of Just Let Go

“Name?”

“Jaden Collins. He was in a skiing accident.”

“Have a seat,” the nurse said.

Carly leaned in closer. “You want me to sit down?”

“If you want information, you’ll have a seat.” The nurse glared.

“I’ve been sitting in a car for three hours, lady.” Carly might come unhinged.

Quinn put a hand on Carly’s shoulder as the nurse stared her down. “Let’s sit. She’ll find out what she can.”

Carly hesitated, but finally pulled her gaze away from the nurse. They all moved toward Grady and sat down.

“Did he say anything to you?” Carly asked. “Before they took him away?”

Grady met her eyes. “Yeah, actually. He said, ‘It’s all in God’s hands now.’”

Carly didn’t move. “Jaden said that?”

Grady nodded.

She covered her face with her hands and hurried to wipe the tears away as fast as they fell. Quinn slid an arm around her sister and glanced up at Grady, kindness in her dark-brown eyes.

“That’s one smart kid,” Gus said. “It’s all in God’s hands now.” He took Beverly’s hand and bowed his head.

The scene was different from when Benji was the one on the operating table. That day, there had been no prayer—for all of their religious talk, his parents didn’t seem to rely on God the way Quinn’s family did. Instead, his dad spent that time blaming Grady for the accident.

Maybe that was the day Grady stopped trusting in anything bigger than himself. Maybe he’d never seen genuine faith at work before.

But here it was, in front of him. And he had to wonder if it was the thing that had made Quinn different from the start.

Grady shifted, feeling not only like an outsider but an impostor. Would his own God issues hinder their prayers from reaching the heavens? He didn’t want to chance it. “Do you want me to get you some coffee?”

“I’ll go with you.” Quinn stood.

If she noticed his surprise, she didn’t let on. “I think the cafeteria is in the basement.”

Under different circumstances, getting coffee with Quinn might’ve been pleasant, even exciting. But he was wrung out, his emotions raw. This whole day had brought back too many memories, and along with them his old travel buddies, guilt and shame.

She leaned against the wall of the elevator as he pushed the button that would take them to the basement. “What are you thinking about?”

He studied the gray floor of the elevator, maybe with a little too much interest. “My brother, actually.”

The elevator doors opened and the empty hospital cafeteria came into view. It was closed at this late hour, but there were vending machines off to the side. Hopefully one of them had coffee.

He fished some change from his coat pocket, thankful she wasn’t prodding him to go on. He’d been replaying that day, everything that happened with Benji, for hours. Saying any of it aloud would be nearly impossible.

And yet, she was safe. If there were ever a time to get it all out, this was it.

Wasn’t it?

“Do you want something?”

“A mocha would be good,” she said.

He nodded, stuck more change in the machine, and waited for it to spit out her drink. She took it from him and met his eyes. The great divide between them seemed to have lessened.

---