Page 141 of Wonderstruck

some role model hey?

The drive to Honeywood General felt endless, even though it couldn’t have been more than ten minutes. The truck was silent, apart from the low rumble of the engine and the occasional hum of the heater kicking in. Grandpa sat rigid in the passenger seat, his hands clasped tightly in his lap. Rory and Daisy were in the backseat, Daisy’s quiet sobs filling the gaps between breaths.

I kept my eyes on the road, my grip on the wheeltighter than it needed to be. The snow along the highway had been plowed into uneven banks, leaving aslick, clear path for the truck to navigate.

I wished my mind were that clear. But it was a raging storm, darker than the clouds that were rolling in ahead of us.

“Finn, slow down, buddy.” Grandpa grunted quietly, breaking thesilence.

I glanced at the speedometer and realised I was goingten over the limit. Easing off the gas, I nodded without a word.

The hospital came into view just as the sun dippedfrom behind the clouds, casting long shadows over the parking lot and leaping over the small mounds of snow. I pulled into a spot near the entrance and turned off the engine.

Grandpa opened his door first, his movements stiff.Daisy followed, clutching Rory’s hand like it was the only thing keeping her from crumbling. I lingered for a second, gripping the wheel until my knuckles turned white, before forcing myself out of the truck.

Inside, the air smelt like antiseptic and stale coffee.The harsh fluorescent lights made everything feel colder, more clinical. The woman at the front desk looked up as we approached, her expression softening as she took in Daisy’s tear-streaked face.

“We’re here for Jason Rhodes,” Grandpa said, hisvoice steady but low.

The woman typed something into her computer, thennodded. “Room 514, second floor. He’s stable but still under observation. Take the elevator to your left.”

Stable.The word didn’t ease the knot in my chest, butit was something.

The elevator ride was quiet, the hum of the machinerythe only sound. Daisy clung to Rory, and Grandpa stood with his hands stuffed into his coat pockets, his face unreadable. I leaned against the back wall, staring at the floor numbers as they ticked by. When we stepped off, the hallway stretched out inboth directions, a maze of doors and muted colours. Room 514 was halfway down on the right. The door was cracked open, and the faint beep of a heart monitor spilt into the hall.

Grandpa pushed the door open the rest of the way, andwe all hesitated on the threshold. But after one fleeting look towards each other, we moved, finding Dad lying in the hospital bed, pale and motionless. Wires and tubes snakedaround him, the machines keeping track of things I didn’t want to think about. His chest rose and fell steadily, but it didn’t feel real.

“Jesus,” Grandpa muttered under his breath, steppinginside. Daisy let out a soft cry and buried her face in Rory’s shoulder.

I didn’t move at first. I just stood there, staring at thepale man who had spent years breaking us apart. He looked so small now, so fragile, and it made something twist in my gut.

He looked so different. So close to death that I wassure a dark shadow would appear in the corner of the room any second to take him away.

Did I want that? Would that be for the best?

My eyes squeezed shut as the question breezedthrough me, as though I’d asked it out loud and was about to get shouted at.

Grandpa pulled up a chair beside the bed, his handhovering over Dad’s but not quite touching it. “What the hell were you thinking, Jason?” he muttered softly to himself, his voice cracking.

I forced myself to step inside, my feet feeling heavierwith each step. I stopped at the foot of the bed, shoving my hands into my pockets to keep them from shaking.

“What did the doctors say when they called?” I asked,not taking my eyes off Dad.

Grandpa sighed, running a hand over his face. “Theysaid he was hypothermic and barely alive when they brought him in. They’ve stabilised him, but his blood alcohol level was through the roof. He’s lucky to be alive.”

Lucky.Was that really something he deserved to feel?After everything?

Rory came up beside me, her hand brushing againstmine. I didn’t look at her, but the warmth of her touch kept me from spiralling. Daisy stayed by the door, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, like she was trying to hold herself together.

“What happens now?” I asked, though I wasn’t surewho I was asking.

Grandpa shook his head. “That depends on him.”

A bitter laugh escaped me before I could stop it. “Evenhecan't depend on himself.”

“Finn,” Rory said softly, her fingers curling aroundmy hand.

I looked at her then, the weight of her gaze groundingme. “What am I supposed to feel right now?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

---