Page 49 of The Sound of Forever
And then, he’s closer. So close I could lean forward and close the distance, could lose myself in the possibility of this moment. My heart pounds, every beat drowning out the rest of the world.
Just as his lips hover near mine, there’s a voice, “Keane.”
I jump, the spell breaking as I pull back, heat rushing to my face. Keane lets out a quiet exhale, his head dropping for a moment before he straightens, his jaw tightening.
“Hey, Rowan,” he says, casually.
Rowan strides in, oblivious or maybe not caring about the moment he just shattered. “Sorry to interrupt,” he says with a smirk, holding up a bag of snacks. “But I wanted to check on you guys.”
Keane stands slowly, glancing back at me with an unreadable expression before turning to Rowan. “Perfect timing, as always,” he says dryly, his voice carrying a touch of irritation that makes Rowan raise an eyebrow.
I sit back, trying to catch my breath and ignore the lingering electricity in the air. Whatever just happened between us leaves me frazzled and wanting, but maybe it’s better this way. We don’t need the distraction.
ChapterForty-Eight
Keane
I sitin the stiff hospital chair, elbows braced on my knees, hands clasped tightly. It’s a flimsy attempt to keep myself grounded, but the knot in my stomach refuses to loosen. The rhythmic beeping of monitors fills the room, interspersed with faint voices from the hallway. The sounds are meant to be reassuring, but they only heighten the tension thrumming inside me.
Hospitals make me anxious. The times I’ve visited a hospital, I was on the bed either recovering from an overdose or woken up from a coma. Today, though, it’s not about me, and I have to remember that. It’s about Ray and Julie. They need me.
Julianna sits perched on the edge of Rayne’s hospital bed, her fingers brushing strands of damp hair away from her niece’s face. There’s a faint flush of pink on Rayne’s cheeks now, a subtle shift that’s allowed me to finally breathe with relief. The doctor said it earlier, this is progress. Though I’m relieved, I don’t let myself fully relax. Not yet. Once we’re out of here and she’s back to her happy self, I will.
The doctor’s explanation plays in my head like a broken record: it happens to some kids. Adenovirus. I’d never heard of it before today, but now it’s seared into my brain. Common in kids, apparently. Most recover easily. But rare cases—like Rayne’s—can hit harder, causing complications that spiral. Once she’s better, we should take her to an allergist to see if she has asthma or any other chronic respiratory issues.
It sounded scary, but what do I know. I’m not a parent. The only thing that currently matters is that they started treatment, and she’s responding. It’s enough for now.
“You okay?” Julianna’s voice cuts through the haze. I glance up to find her gaze on me, exhaustion written across her features.
“Of course,” I reply, the words automatic. They feel hollow, even to me.
Truthfully, I don’t know how I’m doing. Rayne and Julianna may not be my responsibility, but the past few days have been an exhausting blur of worry and helplessness. Seeing Rayne like this, fighting something I couldn’t fix, has been brutal.
And then there’s Julianna, carrying all of it on her own, her fear so tangible it feels like it lingers in every corner of the room, impossible to ignore. I wanted to ease some of it for her, to help in any way I could, but all I managed was bringing food, staying up late, and keeping an eye on Rayne.
“What about you?” I ask, hoping to shift the focus off me. “You need to rest. I can stay here while you go lie down at my place.”
She shakes her head, her lips pressing into a thin line. “I’m not going back to Luna Harbor.”
“No, I meant my place here,” I clarify, though the words come out awkwardly. I scratch the back of my neck, glancing away. Because, fuck, do I still own a house here? Maybe it’s going to be just like Sam, my dog. I woke up to find out my best friend had died a year before. What if someone sold my place? After a long silence, I add, “I used to have a house in Seattle, but I don’t even know if I still have it. You could go to Rowe’s place and use my room there.”
Her lips curve slightly, but she looks down at Rayne instead. “You should be the one leaving,” she says. “You’ve done more than enough already.”
“Not enough,” I murmur. The admission slips out before I can stop it. I sigh, leaning back in the chair. “But I’ve gotten more rest than you. Go.”
Rayne stirs, her small body shifting under the covers. Her eyelids flutter, revealing just a hint of her brown eyes. “Mommy?” she whispers, her voice scratchy and fragile.
My heart breaks because there’s no mother, and how are we going to fill that void? More so when she’s not feeling well.
Julianna is at her side instantly. “Hey, sweetheart,” she says, leaning in close. “I’m here. You’re okay. Keane’s here too.”
Rayne’s gaze drifts toward me, her lips curving into the faintest smile. “I’m thirsty,” she rasps.
“I’ll call the nurse,” Julianna says quickly, brushing a hand over Rayne’s forehead. “Keane, can you stay with her for a minute?”
“Of course,” I say, pulling my chair closer to the bed. “We’ll hang out. Maybe we’ll watch some cartoons if the doctors and nurses allow it.”
“Cartoons?” Rayne whispers, her voice still faint but lighter than before. “What about ice cream?”
