Chapter Seventeen
AURORA WAS SITTING at her desk, glumly staring out the window when the call came in.
Her father was awake. Her heart rate accelerated as she pushed her chair back and stood, grabbing her jacket from the back of the chair.
She needed to get to the hospital as quickly as possible.
M?rten would understand that she was leaving.
But the thought of seeing Karl gave her mixed emotions.
What sort of mood would he be in? She feared the worst.
It was now late afternoon, and she’d spent the past few hours talking to M?rten, who’d returned from Malmo at lunchtime.
M?rten was now up to speed on everything that’d occurred, grilling her for all the tiny details that even she could barely remember.
He was now ready to hold the meeting with Jacob.
They were going to do a video linkup at seven tonight, which would be mid-morning Seattle time.
M?rten was going to head over to the hospital so they could do the call from Taro’s room.
Aurora had wondered if Taro was up to it—not having seen what condition he was in herself—but Jiro had assured her when he’d spoken to her on a borrowed phone that Taro was adamant they get it done today.
Astrid would be arriving by train soon, but she could always catch a taxi to the hospital.
Aurora needed to get in and see her father, make an assessment of his well-being for herself, and it’d be better if he was awake and lucid before Astrid saw him.
Earlier this morning, when she’d checked on him, Karl had looked pale and small in his hospital bed, still surrounded by beeping machines.
But the nurse had told her that things were positive and the swelling on his brain from the concussion had subsided, so he should be awake within the next twenty-four hours.
It looked like the nurse had got it right.
She poked her head into M?rten’s office as she passed by, saying, “I need to get to the hospital, my father is awake.”
“Oh, right.” M?rten looked up at her, but she could tell he was distracted. “Yes, yes, you have to go and see him.”
“I’m still hoping to be there for the interview at seven,” she replied.
M?rten wanted her to sit in on the discussion; she might have some valuable information to add, technical stuff Jiro wouldn’t be able to tell them.
She would be at the hospital anyway, she’d just need to excuse herself for half an hour.
“Astrid should be here by then, so she can sit with Fader while I join you.”
“Oh, I didn’t realize she was coming up. That’s good. Great actually. You’re going to need help with Karl when he gets out of the hospital, and I was worried about how you were going to cope alone.”
Aurora didn’t tell him she doubted Astrid would stay that long. Instead, she plastered a smile on her face and said, “Yes, a big family reunion. Great.” M?rten wouldn’t miss the sarcasm behind her tone.
Just as she turned to leave, he called to her.
“Aurora, you know I’m here for you. Both Summer and I are here for you.
If you need anything, need help with your father, you just have to let me know.
” Aurora turned and looked into his familiar ice-blue eyes.
There was compassion and kindness, but no pity; she wouldn’t accept anyone’s pity, and M?rten knew her well enough to understand that.
He was a good man, and she knew his offer was genuine.
But she wasn’t going to let M?rten anywhere near her father if she could help it.
M?rten had met Karl only once, when she’d been having car trouble and he’d dropped around to pick her up for a shift.
Karl had been civil throughout the short meeting, but she didn’t want to chance it again.
It was hard enough that Jiro had seen how fractured their relationship was.
For some reason, she hadn’t minded so much letting him see her family issues.
On the drive to the hospital, she went through the things she might say to her father when she saw him.
Her first instinct was to apologize; it’d been her fault he fell because she wasn’t home in time to care for him.
But then Jiro’s words came back to her as they’d been lying in bed and she’d been lamenting her failures.
He’d said, “While you might be Karl’s carer, you’re not responsible for him every second of every day.
He is his own man, who still makes his own decisions, be they good ones or bad ones, and you’re doing the best you can, trying to juggle a full-time police career and care for him as well.
You’re not to blame because Karl took it upon himself to climb the stairs to your bedroom.
” Repeating that mantra over and over in her head helped a little, but the guilt still sat like a stone in her stomach.
All the way up the stairs and down the hallway to her father’s room, Aurora’s mind churned with silent apprehension, wondering what she was going to find when she went in through that door.
Pushing aside all her misgivings, she brought up a good approximation of a smile and entered the room.
A nurse in green scrubs was bent over her father’s bed, readjusting a cannula in his arm.
And there was Karl, sitting up in bed, hair all askew, a dark frown hovering on his brow as he squinted at the nurse in contempt.
Aurora got a bad feeling—he definitely wasn’t in a good mood—but she couldn’t turn back now.
“Hello, Fader,” she said, quietly approaching the bed, one eye still on the nurse who had finished fiddling with a dial on the IV bag, and looked up and smiled.
“You!” Karl pointed a shaking finger in her direction.
“This is all your fault. It’s your fault I’m trapped in this bed.
Trapped in this jail cell. Look at me. I’ll never walk again, and it’s all your fault.
” Aurora took a step backward. The nurse glanced at Karl, startled at the old man’s torrent of vitriol.
“Get out of here. Get out of my sight. I don’t want to see you ever again,” he demanded hotly.
Aurora was used to Karl’s sometimes witless eruptions of fury; he got angry a lot over the smallest thing.
But this was something different, and the look of betrayal he gave her speared right through her heart.
Sudden tears sprang to her eyes. She’d expected him to be cross, but nothing could’ve prepared her for this hysterical outburst. All of a sudden, she couldn’t handle his unfounded hatred anymore.
Without another word, she turned and fled from the room.
Walking a few paces down the empty hallway, Aurora leaned back against the wall and sucked in a few deep breaths, trying to regain her equilibrium.
This hadn’t gone at all as she’d planned.
She was going to be firm but fair, ready to withstand his accusations.
But now… Suddenly, the nurse bustled out of the room, turning toward Aurora when she spotted her down the hall.
“I'm so sorry about that,” she apologized. “He’s been…quite agitated since he regained consciousness. Perhaps it’s a side-effect of the pain medications, as well as his waking up and being disoriented by his surroundings.
Maybe just leave him for half an hour or so until he’s more himself.
” Aurora loved that the nurse was trying to explain away her father’s hostility. She glanced at the woman’s name badge.
“Thank you, Ulrike.” Lifting her chin, she regarded the other woman levelly. “I’m sure you’re right.” She wanted to add that he wasn’t normally like this, but the lie wouldn’t come this time. Instead, she merely lifted one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug.
“It’s not true what he said, that he won’t walk again, because he will, even though it’ll take lots of rehab,” Ulrike continued, probably hoping to lift her spirits. “He’s just not listening at the moment. He’s feeling like his world has been shattered, that’s all.”
He and she both, Aurora thought. “I’ll give him half an hour, then I’ll try to talk to him again,” she assured the nurse, even though she wasn’t sure if she would indeed make that attempt.
“Good idea.” Ulrike patted her arm on the way past as she headed down the hall towards the nurse’s station. “Call me if you want some support when you go in again.”
Aurora didn’t know how the nurses did it. How they remained sympathetic and compassionate in the face of openly hostile patients like her father.
Aurora was still leaning against the wall five minutes later, contemplating her shoes, when the sound of running feet alerted her to Astrid’s arrival.
“They said he’s awake,” she puffed, dropping a large suitcase at Aurora’s feet.
Her surge of pleasure at seeing her little sister died before it even had a chance to rise properly.
There was no sisterly hug hello, no questions about how she was holding up.
It was always Aurora’s place to play the role of caring sister; she always gave and Astrid always received.
But in Aurora’s deflated emotional state, she had no reserves left to give.
So instead of plastering on a look that said she was happy to see her sister, she simply said, “He’s in there.
He doesn’t want to see me. Perhaps he’ll talk to you instead. ”
“What? Why?” Astrid looked surprised, almost as if she wasn’t aware of how bad her father’s relationship with Aurora had become. And maybe she wasn’t aware, because Aurora hadn’t told her.