Mum comes back into the waiting room. She briefly hugs her work colleagues, then turns to Annaliese and me.
“You can come to see him if you want.”
I suddenly realize I’m petrified to see Aaron. Because seeing him means this isn’t just some nightmare I’m going to wake up from.
It becomes real.
Annaliese looks as apprehensive as I feel. Logan gives me a reassuring squeeze, and I get to my feet, my legs trembling.
They remain wobbly as Annaliese and I follow Mum down the corridor and into Aaron’s room.
Beside me, Annaliese draws in a sharp breath.
There’s an ache in the back of my throat as I stare at Aaron.
He looks so small in the hospital bed, and he’s surrounded by so many machines, all making different beeping and whirring noises.
I draw closer. His face is puffy, and he’s got a large bandage down one side. His eyes are closed.
“It’s okay,” Mum says softly. “You can talk to him.”
I clear my throat. “Hey, Aaron.”
The beeping and whirring of the machines is the only response.
I look at his hands, which are almost as pale as the white sheets, with an intravenous line running into the back of his left hand.
“I’m sorry.” My voice chokes out. “I didn’t want you to actually leave.”
Mum’s hand is on my shoulder.
“Jake, this is not your fault,” she says.
The tight feeling in my chest loosens.
I wipe my eyes. “Have you told Dad he’s come through surgery okay?” I ask.
“No. I haven’t had a chance yet,” Mum says.
“You need to talk to him,” I say. Then I correct myself. “We all need to talk to him.” I raise my gaze defiantly to my mother, staring her down.
Mum looks down at the sheets, twisting them between her fingers. “I know,” she says quietly.
She stands. “I’ll call his case officer now, see what I can arrange,” she says.
Her shoes on the linoleum floor as she leaves is the only noise besides the whooshing and beeping of the machines.
I feel Annaliese’s eyes on me from the other side of the bed.
“You want to talk to Dad?” she asks.
“I don’t think—” My voice breaks off, but I try again. “I don’t think pretending he doesn’t exist does anyone any good.” I look down at Aaron in the bed. “It definitely hasn’t done Aaron any good.”
“Talking to Dad isn’t going to magically fix anything,” Annaliese says.
I rub the back of my neck. “I know.”
We sit in silence. Aaron remains motionless.