13. Griffin
Iwake to my phone buzzing incessantly. It’s nearly four in the morning, so panic seizes my lungs when I see my dad’s name on my caller ID.
“Hello?” I raspily answer the phone with more of a question than a greeting.
“G-Griff. Y-you need to come home.” I can barely understand my dad through his sobs. My stomach sinks. The only other time I’d ever heard him sound so broken was when my mom died.
“Dad, what is it? What’s wrong?”
“It’s your sister. S-she was in an accident. Oh god—” He’s cut off, and I hear what sounds like a robotic voice calling for a code blue.
“Dad! What happened?” I scream into the phone.
There’s a rustling on the other end. Then I hear another voice come through the phone. “Griffin? Is that you? This is Elizabeth.”
Why is Kenna’s mom with my dad? “Yes, it’s Griff. Can you please tell me what happened, Liz?”
“Griffin, honey, I need you to get on the next flight back here, alright? There was an accident. The Uber Katie and McKenna were riding in on the way back to their dorms from the airport was t-boned by another vehicle. We don’t have all the details yet, b-but you just need to get here—” she chokes out, her sobs filling the other end of the phone.
“Are they okay?” I demand. Please, god, let them be okay.
“McKenna is still unconscious, but stable. They’re doing a head CT now to rule out brain bleeds. Katie is still in surgery, her injuries were more severe since the crash was on her side of the vehicle. I’m so sorry I don’t have more details for you, Griffin. We just don’t know yet,” Liz struggles to say through her tears.
“Can you let my dad know I’ll be on the next flight out? Please keep me updated, Liz,” I choke out, bile rising in my throat.
“We will. Be safe,” I hear her say as I hang up the phone. My body begins moving on autopilot, going through the motions as I book my flight, quickly pack a bag, and wake up Maks and Nico to drop me off at the airport without any real recollection of how we got here.
“Keep us posted, G. Let us know if there’s anything we can do,” Nico says as he pulls me into a tight hug. Maks grips my shoulder and gives me a quick hug.
I nod in response, not wanting to speak, because I know I’ll break. I can’t even muster up the courage to thank them for the ride. Turning on my heel, I wheel my carry-on through the sliding glass doors.
I breeze through check-in but am frustrated when I find security lines are longer than I anticipated for a 6 a.m. flight, but I guess it is Labor Day.
Once I’ve boarded the plane, I take one last look at my messages to see if there’s an update on Katie or Kenna. I have no new notifications, so I put my phone in airplane mode and pray that they’ll both be okay when I land.
I turn my phone off airplane mode to arrange for an Uber, but before I can click the app, I get a call from Carson.
“Carson, how are they?” I ask right away, not bothering with a greeting.
“G, I’m about a mile away from the airport to pick you up. I’ll meet you outside the arrivals by baggage claim.”
“Thanks. Now, please tell me how they are,” I insist.
I hear Carson take a deep breath on the other end of the phone. “Katie’s had a lot of complications. She’s still in surgery. Your dad has been given more updates than usual, due to his position at the hospital, so that’s been nice. Mack’s CT showed brain swelling but, thankfully, no bleeding. She’s been put in a medically induced coma to try to combat the swelling so they can avoid surgery.”
Fuck. Fuck Fuck.
“Look, man, I’m going to be there in a minute, and then we need to get back there to be with everyone. Let me know what you need from me. I’m here for you, G.”
I break out in a sprint to get from the terminal I’m at to the baggage claim area where Carson will be picking me up.
I’ve barely made it outside when I see Carson’s truck pull up to the curb. I quickly get in the passenger seat, tossing my travel bag into the backseat.
When we haven’t started moving yet, I impatiently look over at Carson to find him staring ahead and tightly gripping the steering wheel.
“Carson. Go!” I yell at him.
He turns his head toward me, tears threatening to spill out of his eyes. He has the same eyes as Kenna. And with just one look, fear consumes me.
Carson’s voice is hoarse as he whispers, “What if they aren’t okay, G?”
“We can’t sit here and think that way. We’ve got to get to the hospital, where they’ll have answers for us. Where we’ll be able to see them and be with our families,” I try to appeal to him.
Carson wraps his arms around me, pulling me in for a hug that leaves me stiff at first. Fuck, this is exactly how people reacted when my mom died. I reciprocate his hug, patting him on the back a few times before asking him if he needs me to drive. After assuring me he’s fine, we make the drive to the hospital Katie and Kenna were both brought to.
We’re not even through the second set of glass doors before Kenna’s mom, Liz, wraps me in her arms. “Oh, Griffin. Thank god you’re here.” She pulls away, taking my face in her hands and looking at me. “They’re going to be okay. They have to be okay,” Liz states, her chin wobbling, and her red eyes brimming with tears.
“Where’s my dad? Is Katie out of surgery yet? How’s McKenna?” The questions rattle out of me.
“Your dad went to speak with the Chief of Surgery just a moment before you arrived. I believe he wanted a more thorough update on Katie’s condition than what the residents were providing. This must be even harder for him to sit back and wait when he feels like he could be helping.”
“Okay, I’ll wait for him to get back. And McKenna? How is she? Can I see her?”
“Griffin, she’s in the ICU in a medically induced coma. Only immediate family is allowed to see her right now.”
“He can tell the nurses and staff that he’s me. They won’t know any better,” I hear Carson suggest from beside me.
I look over and nod my head in appreciation at his suggestion.
“I’ll ask Theo to grab a coffee with me. He’s in with McKenna now. You can sit with her for a little while until we get back,” Liz offers, and I take her up on it.
“G, I’ll call you when your dad gets back here,” Carson assures me.
“Thanks, Carse. And thank you for picking me up. I appreciate it.” I pull him in for another brief hug, then follow Liz to Kenna’s room.
The monitor’s beeping sounds like a haunting chorus. One I never thought I’d hear again after my mother lost her battle with cancer almost ten years ago.
Seeing McKenna hooked up to a ventilator, knowing she’s in a medically induced coma, and not knowing whether or not Katie is okay . . . it fucking breaks me. I try to cover my mouth, but the sob still chokes out of me.
Theo squeezes my shoulder and tells me she’s going to be alright, but nothing about this situation is right. He must not know what I overheard the nurses saying in hushed voices about the driver that hit them having failed his tox screening. They said he was nearly three times over the legal limit to drive.
A drunk driver. This happened to my sister and to the girl I love because of a goddamn drunk driver.
If they don’t make it, and he’s still in this hospital, he’ll be a dead man walking.
I’m consumed with so many feelings—anger, rage, fear, regret—that I don’t hear what Theo just said to me.
“What? Can you repeat that?” I ask him.
He sighs, not in frustration, but in exhaustion. “I said the doctors said she would likely be in a coma for the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours. After that, we will have a better idea of any long-term complications.”
Jesus.I hadn’t even brought myself to consider the long-term complications.
I nod in thanks to Theo, patting him on the back as I pass him, then pull up the chair beside Kenna and sit down. I enclose her hand in mine and bring my forehead to where our hands are joined.
“You and Katie both need to be okay, Sunshine. Please just be okay,” I plead to her unconscious body—her chest only rising and falling steadily because of the tubes and machines pumping life into her.
I hear my dad’s voice murmur something in the hallway before his footsteps sound through the door and then stop. Not willing to take my eyes off Kenna’s sleeping form for a second, I stare at her while I ask him, “How much longer until Katie’s out of surgery? God, it’s been hours now. Is this normal?”
Deafening silence falls over the room before a deep wail sounds from my dad’s chest. I snap my head toward him, “Dad?” I implore.
The shake of his head and his answering look hit me like a slapshot to the chest. Pain and loss radiate throughout my body.
“No. Please, god, no.” I shake my head, petitioning the truth.
“Katie—” My dad’s voice breaks. “She’s gone, Griff.” I watch him take a deep, steadying breath. “There was nothing they could do. There was a complication during surgery, and the resulting damage to her brain was too extensive. She was declared brain-dead. I was only allowed in the O.R. to see for myself before the transplant team took over.”
“Don’t you dare flip the switch on me,” I shout at him, releasing Kenna’s hand and standing up. “I am not a patient’s family. You don’t get to turn into the clinical, detached Dr. Turner right now. I am your son.”
My heart is pounding out of my chest, my fists tremble at my sides, and I feel like I’m gasping through a straw. Panic seizes my lungs. Black specks dot my vision. I can’t breathe. I don’t want to.
It’s been thirty-two hours since I found out my baby sister was declared brain-dead and donated her organs to save eight lives. My only comfort in those hours is knowing Katie would’ve been proud to have saved others.
When I boarded my plane yesterday morning, I never thought this would be the outcome—that I’d lose my beloved sister. Or that the girl I’m in love with would still be fighting for her life.
Earlier this morning, they stopped the medication that was inducing Kenna’s coma. Her doctor said he anticipated her regaining consciousness within six to eight hours due to the swelling on her brain having been relieved significantly.
That was eleven hours ago.
My phone chimes again with incoming messages. I regrettably informed Maks, Nico, and Emmett what happened and that I wouldn’t be back for the first week of classes. They said they would handle getting in touch with Coach, my advisor, and the dean if they needed to.
I appreciate them now more than ever, I do. But the constant string of texts to check in on me is beginning to grate on my nerves. So I don’t bother checking my messages. Instead, I place my hands back on Kenna’s right hand. I run my fingers over the tan line on her finger from where her ring typically is. They took it off her and placed it with her belongings when she was admitted.
A bag of Katie’s belongings is all we were given yesterday. That and a pile of paperwork for my dad to sign and sort through.
Still rubbing that line on her finger, I begin humming “You Are My Sunshine” to Kenna. Tears flood my eyes, and the humming becomes difficult as my throat tightens.
“Please come back to me, Sunshine,” I beg, struggling to get the words out through the sobs wracking my body. “I can’t do this without you. Don’t leave me. I can’t go on without you and Katie. I won’t. Wake up, baby. Please, I need you right now.”
I feel Kenna’s hand twitch in mine and my eyes shoot up to see her eyelids fluttering rapidly. Her monitors begin beeping more frequently before her eyes slowly open. Kenna looks like she’s struggling to keep them open. She begins to cough as her conscious brain fights against the breathing tube.
I press the call light on her bed and yell for someone to help her.
“Sunshine, you’re okay. I’m right here. You were in an accident. You were intubated. I need you to calm down until they can get that taken out.”
A team of nurses and doctors rush into her room. One of the nurses grabs my arm, ushering me to the door. “Sir, we’re going to need you to go to the waiting area.”
“I love you, Sunshine. I’ll be right back, Kenna,” I raise my voice gently, only so she can hear me over the chaos.
I turn to the nurse and tell her, “You can’t tell her about Katie. It has to come from me or her family. No one else should tell her.”