Page 100 of The Love of My Next Life
I can’t stop crying. I don’t even register the tears anymore. I just let them fall and wipe my nose on my sleeve. Someone hands me a tissue, but it’s worthless. Soaked in seconds.
We get to the hospital, and they stop me in the waiting room, whisking Macon behind swinging doors. I’m told I can’t follow. I have to wait. I stand and stare at the double doors until a hand is placed on my shoulder. I turn to see Sam. She pulls me into a hug, and I collapse into her arms, my body wracked with sobs once more.
“Shhh,” she says into my hair, “he’s going to be okay. We got there in time.”
I hug her tighter. God, I want her to be right.
“You got to him in time, Lennon.” She pulls me back and looks at me, her own face red and tear-streaked. “You saved his life. He’s alive. He’s going to be okay.”
An accidental overdose,they tell us.Accidental. The word eases the fears that had been nagging me since I saw the drawing in his notebook. Accidental.
A “designer” synthetic drug. Difficult to dose safely. Easy to get it wrong. Lucky, we got to him when we did. Lucky, I knew to start CPR. Lucky, the EMT response was quick.
Lucky. Lucky. Lucky.
The word grates on my nerves and stings my eardrums.
They let us in to see him. He’s asleep and hooked up to more monitors, but he’s breathing on his own. His pulse is strong. No reason to suspect long-term damage. There’s an IV in his arm, and the TV is muted on the Weather Channel. I didn’t even realize it started snowing, but it looks like it’s going to be a pretty nasty storm. If it had started an hour earlier....
We’re told not to wake him, that he’s been through a trauma and he needs to rest, so Sam and I sit down and wait. Her in the couch by the window. Me in a chair by the bed. Briefly, I realize I should call Claire or try to get ahold of our parents, but my head is pounding, and my phone is missing, so I take Macon’s hand in mine and put my head down on the mattress instead.
I sleep.
I wake to muffled voices and see Sam and her dad outside of the room. I let go of Macon’s hand and walk to the door.
“—it go away,” Sam seethes at her father. “You can’t just act like he didn’t almost die.”
“You’re being dramatic, Samantha,” Senator Harper says.
He’s flippant. Annoyed. I hate him immediately.
“Your brother made a mistake, but your friend will be fine. I’ve taken care of everything.”
“So, you’re just gonna foot the bill and sweep it under the rug?” Sam hisses, and her dad sighs.
“He’s getting the best care. He has a private room. By tomorrow, he’ll be back to normal. The other g—”
“He almost died,” I interrupt, making both Sam and her dad flinch.
They look at me, and Senator Harper’s gaze is apathetic at best. I’m nothing. A nobody to him. Yesterday, I’d have been intimidated by him, standing here in his bespoke suit and tie. I’ve been trained from birth to respect my elders. To be nice and polite and to not make a scene.
But that feels like a lifetime ago.
Now, I want to rage. I want to set fire to everything and burn Senator Harper alive.
“Macon almost died because of your son,” I growl. “He irresponsibly and illegally gave him laced and mis-dosed drugs. Your son almostkilledMacon.”
Senator Harper sneers at me.
“My son is not responsible for what that boy puts into his body.” His voice is low and lethal. The hushed tone sends chills down my spine. “And it’s in your best interest to not repeat those baseless, false accusations, little girl.”
I grit my teeth, and his nostrils flare.
“It’s in your best interest not to tellanyoneabout tonight,” he says slowly, the threat unspoken yet obvious. “Not your mommy or daddy. Not your friends. Not your diary. The boy will be released tomorrow, and all records will be erased.”
He flicks his eyes to Sam.
“I’m going back to the house and will be leaving first thing in the morning, Samantha. Tell your brother that if either of you ever call me for something like this again, there will be consequences.”
