Page 112 of No Way Home
“Bowen, how far are you from the hospital?” Dad asked.
Five minutes later, Cash dropped me and Magnolia at the curb. He and Charlie drove off to find a spot in the parking garage across the street.
Magnolia took my hand, guiding me inside the hospital to the information desk.
“Well, hello, Miss Maggie.” A black woman grinned. But one look at our solemn expressions and her smile vanished. “Who are y’all here to see?”
“Hey, Zariah,” Magnolia said. “James Dupree.”
The woman typed his name into her computer. “He’s in surgery. Fifth floor.”
“Noted,” Magnolia said. “What about his wife—Sage Dupree?”
Zariah typed again. Her face went slack. “You’ll want to head to OB.” My gaze volleyed between them. Some unspoken conversation was happening. “They’re performing a C-section right now.”
“Why would they do that without James there?” I asked Magnolia, feeling incensed for my brother.
“Thanks,” Magnolia said to her friend. “We need to go.” She pulled me to a jog and we cut across the two-story lobby. “I’m going to be honest,” she said, her voice tight. “If they’re taking the baby right now, either Sage isn’t as okay as we thought, or Willow’s not doing well.”
“What does that mean? Why would Cash and Charlie say Sage was fine if she wasn’t?"
“I’m not sure,” she said, glancing at me, her eyes honest. “Someone passed along wrong information. Or…” She chewed her lip. “They’re probably delivering Willow now as a precaution,” she said, but her voice hitched, making me think she didn’t believe it.
The labor and delivery doors opened and I followed her to the front desk.
“Hi.” She forced a smile. “Um, we’re here for Sage Dupree.”
The receptionist typed on her keyboard, but then a baby’s scream pierced the air from somewhere down the hall. And yeah, even though there were probably lots of babies on this floor, somehow I just knew…that was my niece.
Her cry pulled me like a rope and I obeyed. I shoved through another set of doors, veering left, jogging toward the sound. Every room I passed, I searched—empty beds, a few moms dozing, one rocking her newborn. Then Willow’s wail split the air again, reedy and breathless, like a tiny set of lungs demanding the whole world to hear. Where were they? Why wasn’t Sage saying anything, like “Oh, she’s so beautiful?” Or, “Can I hold her now?”
One more warbly scream, and I realized my niece and sister-in-law were in an operating room, in the center of the unit. I peeked through the window to see a nurse scrubbing down a blond baby girl, red and splotchy, hair damp. I smiled, heart pounding. Willow was not happy about her first bath.
I shoved the door open, and my ears were assaulted by Willow’s beautiful screams. She was so loud that I almost didn’t hear another noise hidden beneath. A noise that would haunt me for years to come.
The singular steady tone of a heart monitor flatlining.
The terrible irony? The fear that sound put in me made myown heart slam against my ribs with fierce, unrelenting power.
I whirled, searching for the source of the tone.
“You can’t be in here!” A nurse yelled just as I spotted the monitor, still attached to Sage, who was lying eerily still on the operating table.
“I’m the baby’s u-ncle,” I choked. “Her dad’s in surgery.”
The doctor, wearing a solemn, defeated expression, waved the nurse off. “Leave him be.”
I stumbled forward, trying to process what I was seeing. When the truth my brain already knew reached my heart, it came out of my vocal cords as a gut-wrenching wail. My legs gave out and my knees hit the floor before I knew I’d even gone down. I caught myself with my hands, a sob shaking my lungs.
My sweet, adorable sister-in-law…the love of James’s life…
Was gone.
Chapter Forty
MAGNOLIA
Seven hours later,the entire extended Dupree family gathered in the fourth-floor waiting area, pacing, holding each other, and praying. The younger kids had finally given in and fallen asleep on the floor or on their parents’ laps. Sage’s parents—devastated and struggling to let go—were with their daughter’s body, saying goodbye.
