Page 29 of Single Dad's Fake Bride
"What happened?"
"Not sure of the specifics, but the paramedics logged it as alcohol-related. Blood loss. The mother's still unconscious." Jenkins's voice remained professionally neutral. "Thought you should know."
I checked my watch to find it was nearly noon.
"She's been there for sixteen hours?"
"Give or take. The Quinn woman hasn't left the building. Refused meals, according to the nurse I spoke with."
After I hung up, I stared at the architectural plans without seeing them.
Sadie had listened to my proposal yesterday afternoon and I saw the shock on her face.
Something that could make the bravest woman need a stiff drink.
Now she was facing exactly the kind of crisis that made impossible decisions feel inevitable.
I closed my laptop and grabbed my keys.
Her mother's drinking wasn't my problem at all, but I felt like a total jerk for dumping such a shocking request onto her lap when she was already dealing with things I couldn't imagine.
I had to go see if she was alright.
It was the least I could do.
Cape Cod Hospital's emergency department buzzed with the controlled chaos of a busy weekday.
I signed in at the front desk and asked about Janet Quinn, explaining I was a family friend.
The receptionist directed me to the waiting area down the hall.
I found Sadie curled in a corner chair, her legs tucked beneath her and a gray hoodie pulled up over her head.
Her phone lay dark in her lap, the battery apparently dead.
She'd fallen asleep sitting up, her head tilted at an angle that would leave her neck aching when she woke.
For several minutes, I stood across the room watching her.
Even in sleep, tension lined her face.
Her hands were clasped tightly together, and every few minutes, she would shift restlessly, as if her unconscious mind couldn't find peace even in sleep.
The waiting room was nearly empty except for an elderly man reading a newspaper near the vending machines.
A television mounted on the wall played an afternoon talk show with the sound muted, its bright images flickering across the sterile space.
I approached the nurses' station and spoke quietly with a woman in scrubs who confirmed what Jenkins had told me.
Janet Quinn remained unconscious.
Blood alcohol levels had been dangerously high, and there were signs of internal bleeding.
Sadie had refused all offers of food or suggestions that she go home to rest.
"She's been here since they brought her mother in," the nurse said, glancing toward the corner where Sadie slept. "Won't even step outside for fresh air."
I thanked her and took the elevator down one floor to the hospital cafeteria located in the basement.
