Page 70 of Ashes of Us
"I don't know. They loaded him up about ten minutes ago. He was unconscious."
Ten minutes ago.
I looked past Daniel toward the chaos outside—sirens, flashing lights, crews still working. Somewhere out there, an ambulance was already gone, carrying him away.
"Piper?" Daniel's voice, concerned.
I looked back at him. He was watching me, that expression I still couldn't read on his face.
"You should go," he said quietly. "To the hospital. Check on him."
"I—" I didn't know what to say. "You're?—"
"I'm fine. They're taking me in for observation, but I'm fine." He reached out, squeezed my hand with his bandaged one. "Go."
I stood there for another second, torn.
Then I turned and ran back to my car.
CHAPTER 28: PIPER
Riverside General's ER was chaos.
I pushed through the automatic doors and was immediately hit by the smell of antiseptic and coffee, that particular hospital smell that made my stomach clench. The waiting room was packed. A kid was crying in his mother's lap, two older men were arguing about something with the triage nurse.
I walked up to the desk, trying to look calmer than I felt.
"I'm looking for someone who was just brought in. From the fire on Maple Street. Liam Sullivan."
The nurse didn't look up from her computer. "Are you family?"
"I'm—" I hesitated. What was I? "A friend."
"I can't give out patient information to non-family members."
"He was injured saving people from a fire. He's a firefighter… a Captain. I just need to know if he's okay."
She finally looked at me, expression tired but not unkind. "I understand. But HIPAA regulations?—"
"Please." My voice cracked. "I just need to know he's alive."
She studied my face for a moment. "He's being treated. That's all I can tell you. If you want to wait, the surgical waiting room is on the third floor."
Surgical.
The word hit me like cold water.
I nodded, not trusting my voice, and headed for the elevators.
This was fine. This was just me being a decent person. He'd saved Daniel—saved him—and I needed to make sure he was okay. That's what anyone would do, right? It didn't mean anything. Didn't change anything.
The elevator took forever. I stared at the numbers climbing and tried not to think about Liam on an operating table somewhere in this building.
The third floor waiting room was quieter. A few people scattered in chairs, most staring at their phones or the muted TV in the corner.
I found an empty seat and sat down, hands gripped together in my lap.
Now what? I just... waited? For what? News about someone who wasn't even mine to worry about anymore?
