Page 127 of Heartstruck at Dawn
My chest collapsed, and I don’t know if I was crying or merely suffering. I pulled away from Aaron. “I need to know if they’re going to be okay.”
Ow!The pain in my wrist was clouding my thoughts to the point that it bent me over. I placed my left hand over my knee and pulled my right hand closer to my chest. “I can’t. Aaron, I can’t brea—”
Aaron carried me again and rushed inside the hospital. He explained to one of the doctors that my right wrist was probably broken as I gasped for air. He kept talking to the doctor and answering his questions, but I stopped listening as my consciousness faded far, far away until I inevitably passed out in Aaron’s arms.
March 19, 2010
THERE WAS AN IVconnected to my left hand when I lifted it seconds after opening my eyes. A serum bag dripped a clear solution into my veins. I was wearing a hospital gown, and my right hand had been placed into a cast.
My father stood up reactively from the chair beside me. He had a few buttons of his shirt undone, and his jacket was neatly placed on the chair’s backrest. His auburn hair was slightly disheveled. I could hear Aaron and David whispering outside the curtain. I was still in the emergency room.
“Kiddo!” He leaned in and hugged me tightly. His eyes were glazed and red-rimmed. I tried sitting up straight, but my head was like a bowling ball resting on the tip of a toothpick.
“Oh, thank God, you’re okay,” he said with an air of relief. “You’re okay.” He stroked my hair a few times while muttering, “I can’t lose you too.”
“William? Is he okay?” I asked with a panic-filled voice. “What about Caleb?”
“They’re both in surgery. The doctors won’t tell us anything yet.”
“Has anyone reached out to his family?”
“They’re all here, and his father’s flying back from L.A. as we speak.”
This can’t be happening.
“And Mimi? Is she okay?”
“Mimi was found lying on the floor in her apartment, but they quickly brought her here too. The doctors are closely monitoring her vitals, but she’s okay. She’ll be okay,” he said as if trying to convince himself of that. “Nicholas gave her a strong sedative, and it knocked her out.”
“And Nicholas? Does anyone know where he is?” I hoped they found him quickly. He was insane. From the moment I met him, I knew he wasn’t right in the head. He constantly poisoned Thomas’s mind and egged him on when that wasn’t the type ofhelpThomas needed.
“They’ll find him,” he said matter-of-factly. “The school and his parents have been notified about what happened, too, just in case he shows up at school or his parents’ house in D.C. You never know.”
My father asked a nurse to bring me some water.
The outfit I wore to the premiere was folded on a stainless-steel table beside us. I didn’t know if I got to keep it or if I had to give it back. Hopefully not because it was sprayed with blood here and there. The sight of it made me shudder and reminded me of Thomas lying lifeless on the floor beside me. I could feel my breathing getting heavy and uneven again.
“Are you okay, kiddo?” My father asked, analyzing me. The nurse came back with my glass of water, and I took a few sips. I wasn’t. Not even close. But I nodded. It was an easier response. How was I to put my thoughts into words when I couldn’t even grasp them? It was too much to process.
“Has anyone talked to Nathan?” I asked instead.
“I woke him up. He was supposed to fly back on a ten-thirty a.m. flight, but I talked to Oliver Chapman, and they’re flying Nathan, and his co-worker Aiden back right now on his plane since a couple of people from the London office needed to fly to New York, too. They were notified about leaving earlier. Their flight must’ve left half an hour ago.”
“At what time will Nathan arrive then?” I asked. I needed him so badly. He must’ve been worried sick, and my phone was back at the apartment.
“Ten, Ten-thirty in the morning. I’ll send someone to pick him up and bring him over immediately,” he said reassuringly. “But you need to rest.”
Rest.
The only way I would be able to rest is if they gavemea sedative. I couldn’t stop thinking about William and Caleb. Hoping they’d make it okay out of surgery. They had to.
“Does your hand hurt?” my father asked. “Your wrist is broken. You’ll have to wear the cast for eight weeks.”
“It hurts less right now. I’m sure there’s something in that to help with the pain,” I said, jerking my chin at the serum bag. “What time is it, by the way?”
“It’s ah”—he glanced at his watch—“two-thirty a.m. You were asleep for a couple of hours. They gave you a mild sedative.”Of course, they did. He held my left hand and kissed my knuckles. “You had a panic attack.”
I know.
