Page 242 of The Night Shift
My heart plummets. “He’s…in a coma?”
“Not technically,” Dr. Corbin says. “Post-resuscitative. No eye-opening. No purposeful movement. We’re monitoring for neurological recovery, but —”
“But you don’t think he’ll wake up.”
He doesn’t answer. Which is answer enough.
It sends something boiling up from my chest to my throat. “No,” I say flatly. “You’re wrong.”
“Dr. Moore —”
“I’ve seen patients like this recover. You know I have. We both have.” My voice sharpens. “You’re standing there quoting trauma stats like they mean something, but he’s going to wake up.”
Dr. Corbin exhales. “There was prolonged hypotension —”
“And there aredocumentedcases of recovery after worse. Patients who didn’t open their eyes for days. Weeks. Months. He’s not gone.”
“I didn’t say he was.”
My jaw tightens until I feel the throb in my temples. My hands won’t stop shaking. My nose burns. I need to get out of here. I need to get away before I scream or cry or punch something.
“I need some air.” He doesn’t stop me as I push past the doors and keep walking. Past the fluorescent hellscape of the ICU wing, past the ER. I walk out into the parking lot.
The night air hits me like a slap. I inhale hard, my hand on my knee, bent over asphalt. Then straighten, leaning back against the nearest car like it might hold me up. My shoulderscreams in protest. I ignore it. I've been ignoring worse. I just need a second, that’s all. A breath or a reason to believe this doesn’t end here. It can’t. It cannot end like this. It just can’t. Another second. Another breath. I wouldn’t have — I swear I didn’t mean to hurt him — She forced me — And now — My vision tilts. My knees wobble. Something sharp and panicked claws at my chest. Like I’ve lost the map, the ground,everything.Tears blur my eyes and drip soundlessly to the pavement. Thiscannotbe it. I won’t survive it. I won’t survive losing Theo. Not after everything and not because of me. Please, god, not him.Please. Just anything but him.
A voice cuts through the air, soft but jarring. “Holly?”
My head jerks up. Instinctively, I swipe my face with both hands, immediately regretting it. White-hot pain rips through my shoulder.Fuck. I squint through the tears. Standing ten feet away is a woman in a sparkly wool overcoat, a glittery blue purse dangling from her shoulder. Her hair is in a messy ponytail and there’s an unlit cigarette between her fingertips like it’s part of her anatomy.
“…Audrey?” My voice cracks. “Wh-what are you doing here?”
She sets her blue purse on the ground. “Are you crying?”
I shake my head too fast, wiping my cheek again. “No, I…how are you even here? I thought you were leaving the city.”
She just shrugs and steps beside me, resting against the car like she’s done this a thousand times before. “I thought so too. But apparently, you need me to stay.”
I don’t answer, nor do I really care what that vague fucking statement means. I’m just glad she’s here. Her presence doesn’t fix anything. It doesn’t make my panic stop. But it does slow it down a bit. Like someone just pressed a tiny finger to the brake pedal.
I tilt my head back against the car, eyes closed. “Everything’s turning to shit again,” I murmur.
A beat of silence.
“Is it because of Theo?” she asks.
I frown and look at her. “How’d you know?”
Audrey’s mouth does an open-shut thing. “Oh, I um, it’s just that the last time we spoke, you were upset about him. Something about kissing him again, even though you didn’t want to.”
Right. I did say that.
“So?” she asks gently. “Is that still true?”
The instinct to lie rises automatically. It always does when it comes to Theo. But it fizzles out fast. I’m too tired of pretending. “No,” I say quietly.
“Things have changed, then?”
I nod.
