Chapter 34
Chapter Thirty-Four
Molly
T he clock is just flipping to seven-fifty as I swing my car into a parking spot in front of the emergency room at the Children’s Hospital of Pittsburgh, where Allie and Jordan both work. Something is going on here because there are at least six police cars on the street, and officers are surrounding the ER entrance. The irreverent gossip in me wants to know everything immediately. I hope Allie has details, and I hope they’re juicy.
I scan the street in front of the police barricades, but when I don’t see Allie anywhere, I grab my phone to text her.
Me
I’m here! I’m so sorry! What a fucking night. Also, WTF is happening at the hospital? I’ll be needing the details.
I texted her earlier during my mad scramble through my office to tell her I would be a little late. She said it would be fine because she’s good like that, but I’m definitely buying all the drinks.
When Allie doesn’t immediately respond, I decide to go inside and look for her so I can grovel appropriately before we go to dinner. I hate being late. It’s really unfortunate that I so often am. The front entrance is barricaded off, but I see a doctor going in through a side entrance that the police seem to have forgotten about. Feeling like I’m doing something deliciously wrong, I slip in behind her, unnoticed.
There’s a weird vibe when I walk into the ER. Not that I spend much time in hospitals. Or, like, any time at all. But it’s oddly quiet, and all the seasons of all the medical shows I’ve ever watched depict ERs as loud and chaotic and definitely not…whatever this is. Whatever this is has a chill running up my spine and my head swiveling, looking around for Allie so we can get the fuck out of here.
I don’t see Allie, but I do see a doctor who looks familiar. My photographic memory immediately delivers me the necessary information. Hudson Collins. Pediatric cardiothoracic surgery resident. Works with Allie. Met at Allie and Jordan’s engagement party.
He’s walking out of one of the patient rooms, tearing off the yellow disposable gown he’s wearing and shoving it into a trash can outside the room. I get a flash of blood on the gown before he slams down the trash can lid like it’s wronged him in some way and then leans against the wall outside the room, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths. I wonder if he just lost a patient, and how hard it must be to get up every morning, knowing that you might see a kid die today. I rarely think about the details of what Allie and Jordan do every day, but seeing it firsthand has me suddenly in awe of both of my friends. I’m definitely buying the drinks tonight.
I approach him with what I hope is a warm smile and not weird stranger coming to interrupt your private moment vibes.
“Hudson, right?”
He scrubs his hands over his face and opens his eyes, studying me. “Yeah, do I know you? And how did you get in here? The ER entrance is closed.”
I shrug. “Slipped in through a side door. I’m stealthy like that. Sorry, I sometimes forget not everyone has a photographic memory. I’m Molly, a friend of Allie and Jordan. We met at their engagement party a while back. I’m supposed to be picking up Allie for dinner, but I can’t find her anywhere, and she hasn’t responded to my texts. Any idea where she is? I’m unconscionably late, so I thought she might have come back in here to hang while she waited.”
Hudson stares at me for a second before he presses his hands into his eyes, muttering “Fuck.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see another doctor freeze in their tracks and stare at me. Dread pools in my stomach.
Something is very, very wrong here.
“Molly…I’m not sure how to…I mean, I can’t…shit,” he says, shaking his head like he’s trying to shake his thoughts into some kind of order. Then I can practically see him morph into doctor mode. His back snaps straight and he squares his shoulders. His eyes adopt a dispassionate expression. The kind of professional distance I imagine doctors who deliver bad news to family members every day need to have to stay sane.
I would be impressed if I wasn’t suddenly acutely aware that I am the family member he needs professional distance from, and the news he is about to deliver is very, very bad. Now it’s my back that straightens, my shoulders that square. Some deeply rooted instinct telling me I need all the surface area my body can provide to carry whatever it is I’m about to learn.
“It’s okay,” I tell him, not at all sure it actually is. “Just say it fast.”
He takes a deep breath before he speaks, his hands curling into tight fists. The only betrayal of his professional exterior.
“I’m probably violating like a thousand HIPAA regulations, but fuck it. Molly, Allie was shot in the chest about fifteen minutes ago by the father of a patient she lost during surgery earlier this week. He approached her when she was standing outside the ER doors. That’s why the police are outside. They caught the guy right away, so that’s probably why you were able to slip in. The bullet lacerated her pulmonary artery, and she bled out almost immediately. The ER staff brought her inside and called us down right away, but the damage was too extensive, and we weren’t able to save her. She was gone before she even made it inside. I am so sorry for your loss.”
I stare at Hudson for a few beats while my brain tries to engage. Emotions try to form. Anxiety attempts to surface. Shock tries to settle in. I feel the beginning of tears behind my eyes. The words your fault attempt to take root.
But then, in a split second, that’s all gone.
My crisis brain kicks in and shoves everything away. Everything except for what needs to happen right now. A perfectly clear to-do list forms in my mind with boxes to check off, and I know myself well enough to know that trying to process anything is futile. One foot in front of the other. What comes next. That’s my mission. Molly Jenkins never fails a mission.
“Who else knows?”
Hudon blinks at me, taken aback by my matter-of-fact question. “Uh, what do you mean?”
“I mean, who else have you told?” I snap. “Have you contacted Allie’s parents? Does J—” I break off as my voice catches, but I recover and plow right on ahead.
“Does Jordan know?”
All the color drains from Hudson’s face. “I called time of death like two minutes ago. They never officially locked down the hospital since they caught the guy right away. There’s no way he knows yet. It happened too fast. I saw him earlier, up on the surgical floor, so I know he’s here. His shift doesn’t start until nine, so he’s probably in the doctor’s lounge up there. Let me just call him to come down here.”
Your fault.
Your fault.
Your fault.
“No,” I say, voice firm. “I’ll tell him. It should come from me. And not here. I’ll go to him. What floor is the surgical floor?”
“You won’t be able to get onto the floor. You’ll need someone to badge you in.” Hudson reaches for the phone in his pocket.
“Hudson, don’t you dare dial that fucking phone. I’ll kick in the goddamn doors to the surgical floor if I have to, but no one except me is telling Jordan Wyles that the love of his life is dead.”
He freezes, staring at me.
“Take my badge.” I spin around, and a nurse stands behind me, unlooping the lanyard from her neck and handing it to me. “It’s against hospital policy, but we are so far beyond that right now. I remember you from their engagement party. You’re part of their group of friends. You all are like family. He should hear this news from family. Besides, aren’t you Gabriel Sullivan’s fiancée? I saw your picture in the paper. I doubt the hospital is going to mess with Gabriel Sullivan’s fiancée. Eighth floor, hon. Make a left through the double doors by the elevator, and the doctor’s lounge is the third door on the right. Just drop the badge off at any nurse’s station. It’ll find its way back to me.”
“Thank you,” I say, taking the lanyard from her and sticking it in my bag. Mission accomplished, I turn to go find the elevators. As I walk, my brain works down my list. Everyone else needs to know. Hallie and Ben. Julie and Asher. Emma and Jeremy. Rachel and Steven. It’s too many phone calls to make. It’ll take too much time. So many people to devastate tonight. So many lives that will never be the same.
Your fault.
Your fault.
Your fault.
I’m hitting Gabe’s contact before I even realize I’ve pulled my phone out of my bag. He answers almost immediately.
“Hey, Rory baby, miss me already?” Gabe asks by way of greeting.
“Gabe,” I say, my voice flat. “I have some really sad news, except we don’t have time to be sad right now. There’s too much to do.”
“Are you okay?” he asks. His tone is level, but I can hear the edge of panic underneath. The deep, comforting timbre of his voice has my breath backing up in my lungs and a sob rising, but I shove it down. One foot in front of the other. Do what comes next.
“I’m okay, but I need you to listen to me. Allie was shot and killed outside the ER just now while she was waiting for me to pick her up. It happened right before I got here. It was the father of a patient who died during surgery while Allie was operating. He’s in custody. The bullet hit her in the chest, and she bled out almost immediately. No one could save her.”
Your fault.
Your fault.
Your fault.
I shake my head to clear it. Focus Molly . The walk down the hallway to the elevator feels endless.
“I’m on my way to tell Jordan right now. He’s here at the hospital, but he doesn’t know yet. I don’t want him to hear it from anyone but me.”
“Wait for me,” Gabe says immediately, and I hear rustling at the other end of the line like he’s standing up. “Let me be there with you, then I’ll drive you home. Or to your friends. Anywhere you need to be, I’ll be there with you. I love you, Rory. You don’t have to do this alone.”
“No, Gabe. Listen. Stay home. Please. I need to tell him now. I can’t wait and risk him hearing it from anyone who isn’t me, and I know news travels fast in these places. I need your help. Please.”
“Anything,” Gabe says. “Literally anything. Tell me what you need me to do.”
I breathe a sigh of relief for this man, who knows me well enough to know not to argue with me right now.
“I need you to call Ben. Right now, Gabe. No one else knows, and I don’t have time for that many phone calls. Call Ben and tell him, and he can tell everyone else. Let him know Jordan is at the hospital, and I’m telling him now. Ben will know what to do. I’ll come home after I talk to Jordan.”
“Where are you parked?” Gabe asks.
I finally make it to the elevator and stab the up button. “In front of the ER, why?”
“It’s dark, and I just want to make sure you don’t have to walk far to get to your car when you’re ready to leave.”
“I’ll be fine. The elevator just got here. I have to go, Gabe. Call Ben.”
“Right now, Rory. I swear. I’ll take care of it.”
“Thank you,” I say, checking off that box on my to-do list and stepping into the elevator.
“I love you, Rory. So, so much. And I’m here for you. I’m so sorry you lost your friend.”
Your fault.
Your fault.
Your fault.
I squeeze my eyes shut as the door slides closed.
“I love you too.”
Jordan is sitting on an uncomfortable looking couch, wearing a white coat with a stethoscope looped around his neck. Leaning back with his legs crossed in front of him and one arm tossed over the back of the couch, he’s holding a cup of coffee in his other hand and laughing at something another doctor is telling him.
He looks happy and carefree and not at all like a man whose life is about to shatter. Whose life already has shattered, really. He just doesn’t know yet.
Somehow that’s the worst part of all. That it already happened. The love of his life—the woman he calls baby girl and looks at like she’s his sun and never stops touching and kissing wherever they are and no matter who’s watching—is gone, and he doesn’t know yet and didn’t get to say goodbye.
Your fault.
Your fault.
Your fault.
I must make some kind of noise because both Jordan and the guy he’s talking to turn toward the door. When Jordan sees me standing there, a grin spreads across his face. My stomach clenches. One foot in front of the other. Do what comes next.
“Hey, Mol, what are you doing here? I thought you and Allie were having dinner. Did she let you know about that ER consult? She said it wouldn’t take long though. Word is something weird happened down there a little while ago, but I figured you guys would be at least one marg in already.”
I glance around the room, and it’s just Jordan and the one other guy. I focus on him. “I’m a friend of Jordan’s. Would you mind if I talked to him in private?”
Whatever he sees on my face has him nodding. “Sure, no problem.” He must sense something that Jordan doesn’t yet because he squeezes Jordan’s shoulder as he passes. “I’ll be in the office catching up on charts if you need me when you’re done.”
Then he slips past me and out the door.
I walk into the room, close the door behind me, and flip the lock so no one can interrupt. Jordan’s eyes track the movement, and when they meet mine, his gaze is wary, like he knows something isn’t right but can’t figure out what.
I sit next to him on the couch and turn so I’m facing him. He does the same, his eyes searching my face. He’s so smart. Too smart to think this is just a social call. My hands try to shake, and I grip them together, slippery palms sliding against each other. My brain may be in crisis mode, but my body hasn’t gotten the message.
“Mol, not that I’m not glad to see you, but what the fuck is going on? Where’s Allie?”
I look at Jordan, knowing that the person in front of me is about to disappear. That this moment is the line that divides his life into before and after. And I’m the one drawing the line. One foot in front of the other. Do what comes next.
I take his hand. Hold his gaze. Then, I let go of the wrecking ball that will smash his life to pieces.
“Jordan, Allie was shot about twenty minutes ago outside of the ER while she was waiting for me to pick her up.”
Nothing. Absolutely no reaction at all except for the rapid blinking of his eyes and the hitch in his breath. His face is a mask of confusion, and I can see his brain work to process what I just said.
Your fault.
Your fault.
Your fault.
“The person who shot her was the father of a patient she lost last week. The bullet hit her in the chest, and she lost a lot of blood. They couldn’t save her. She died, Jordan. Allie is gone.”
Jordan’s jaw works. His mouth opens and closes. Then opens and closes again. He shakes his head vigorously.
“She’s not. She can’t be. I just saw her. I came in early so I could see her before she had dinner with you since we’re working opposite shifts this week. She was just sitting right where you are, and then she got called to the ER for that consult. You guys are having dinner. She said she told you to pick her up outside the ER instead of at the front. That she was going to wait for?—”
He breaks off, and I see the exact moment it hits him. The fast panting of his breath. The fluttering of the pulse in his neck. The tightening of his hand around mine. The tears that flood his eyes and spill over.
“She died?” His voice is a whisper, as if speaking the words any louder will make it real. I see him clinging to the last shred of hope that maybe this is all a mistake. I hate myself for being the one who has to cut it.
“She died, Jordan. I am so, so sorry.”
I bite the inside of my cheek and clench my jaw so hard I’m surprised my molars don’t crack.
Your fault.
Your fault.
Your fault.
“Allie.” In the two syllables of her name from Jordan’s mouth are heartbreak and devastation and a pain so intense it lives and breathes. I see it weigh him down. Take him over.
I know what it feels like when your own heart breaks, and now I know you can feel someone else’s break too. It happens in the bowing of his head and the curl of his back. In the shaking of his shoulders and his anguished cries. In the way he falls forward, no longer able to hold himself up.
So, I try and do it for him, as best as I can. I don’t break, because Jordan needs to. He’ll need to, over and over again, for days and weeks and months and years and for however long it takes to build a new life on the wreckage of the one he lost.
The enormity of it is staggering. My crisis brain won’t let me contemplate it. One foot in front of the other. Do what comes next.
I wrap my arms around my friend and hold him tight. I let him cry onto the shoulder of the new sweater I was so excited to show Allie. The one I can’t show her. That she’ll never see. Because she’s gone.
And it’s all my fault.
An hour later, I walk out the same side door of the ER I came in through less than two hours ago.
It feels like ten years.
Jordan hadn’t said another word since Allie’s name fell from his lips. He stopped crying at some point and went terrifyingly silent.
I never stopped holding him.
Ben, Jeremy, Asher, and Rachel and Steven Parker came half an hour after Jordan broke down. With Rachel’s and Steven’s arms around him, and his brothers in front of him and behind, he broke again.
And I slipped out of the room.
I don’t remember going back down to the ER. Suddenly I was just there, and now I’m here. Outside. In the dark. The police are gone, and the street is quiet. There is one item left on my list.
Get home .
My phone pings incessantly in my purse, and I’m sure it’s my friends wondering where I am. Rachel told me Hallie, Julie, and Emma were together at Emma’s house since she wanted to stay with Maddy while the guys came to the hospital. The thought of going there is too much for my tired brain. I know they’ll have questions. I know there are hard days ahead and the only way through this is together. I just can’t. Not tonight. The combination of guilt and grief starting to surface threatens to take me under, and there is only one person I want right now.
Gabe’s face fills my brain, and I wish with wild desperation that he was here. That I had told him to come, to wait for me, to be here so I didn’t have to be alone.
Except then I don’t have to wish it, because he’s there, leaning against the wall right outside the main ER doors. I blink at him like my brain is playing tricks on me and I somehow conjured him through the sheer force of my desperation alone.
But then he’s in front of me, taking my hands and leading me to a bench. Helping me sit. And I know he’s real because he cups my face in his hands and pushes my hair away from my face and kisses my forehead. He whispers words like I’m so sorry and I love you and I’m here and I’m so proud of you . And You’re such a good friend and Lean on me, Rory and I’ll take care of you .
Then he wraps his arms around me and holds me tight, and I don’t have to get home, because Gabe is here, so I’m already there.
With every item on my to-do list for tonight crossed off and no more steps to take, my crisis brain crumbles to dust.
In the shadow of the hospital where all of our lives have changed forever, I collapse into Gabe’s arms, and I sob.