Chapter 12
Morning Madness
Van
I didn’t sleep.
I’m not sure anyone could sleep in this room. There’s a narrow window overlooking the parking lot, and sometime in the last hour, the black outside faded to that dull gray that means morning is coming whether you’re ready for it or not. The fluorescent lights never dimmed. Neither did the machines.
There’s a recliner shoved against the wall that Quinn keeps telling me folds almost flat. I wouldn’t know. I haven’t sat in it.
The alarms in Skye’s room went off who knows how many times. She was resuscitated once. I now understand why she punched me when I did it as an escape tactic. It isn’t funny.
It’s fucking terrifying.
Things have been pretty quiet for the last three hours.
Her color is still something akin to milk.
The heated blanket Quinn brought in hours ago is still tucked around her, but it hasn’t done anything to make her look warmer.
There are bags hanging from the metal pole beside her bed, wires disappearing beneath her gown, and enough monitors surrounding her to make me afraid to look at any of them for too long.
I look anyway.
Constantly.
I checked in on Saoibhin a few minutes ago. Eamonn said she had pancakes for dinner and seemed in good spirits. She knows something is wrong but not the severity of it.
Lana is taking her out for breakfast in a little bit, then taking her to school.
Morning shift has started creeping into the hallway outside. Different voices. Different shoes squeaking against the floor. Someone rolls a cart past the open door, and the smell of burnt hospital coffee briefly overpowers the antiseptic.
“Any update?” I ask as Quinn does her latest vitals check.
“Her heart rate is down. That’s not really a good sign. There’s just no way to know for sure, but I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation on the phone. I know you’re keeping that kid out of here, but you shouldn’t. You should bring her in. Let her skip school. Just in case.”
“Just in case what?”
Quinn looks at Skye before she looks at me.
“Just in case she needs to say good-bye.”
My breath catches. “Are we there?”
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I ignore it.
“No. We’re not there. But you never know you’re there until you’re there. The doctor is going to come in and talk to you in a little while. He’s going to talk about the potential for brain damage. You need to prepare yourself. Even if she does hang on, she might not be… her.”
I grip the sides of my chair. “Will you be here for that? What time does your shift end?”
To both of our surprise, Skye coughs against her breathing tube and opens her eyes.
For half a second, neither of us moves.
Then Quinn practically leaps over the end of the bed and yells into the hall.
A team rushes in, filling the room so quickly that I’m forced back toward the wall.
Suddenly there are doctors and nurses everywhere.
Hands reaching for tubes. Someone checking a monitor. Someone else lowering part of the bed.
And I can’t do a fucking thing.
My phone buzzes again.
They start to take the tube out of Skye’s mouth. She fights against it and gags. I wring my hands at my sides. I don’t want to watch this.
But I can’t look away.
My phone buzzes a third time. Someone is really trying to get a hold of me. I can’t process that right now.
Finally, they get the tube out, and Skye looks at me and locks her eyes on mine. She tries to say something, but it’s undecipherable.
“Don’t try to talk,” Quinn tells her. “It’s going to hurt like hell. Here.” She holds a straw to Skye’s mouth, and she takes a sip of water. She coughs again, then looks at me and, in a raspy voice befitting her favorite singer, says, “Don’t bring V here, or I will rip your balls off.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. “You. You scared me.” I smile at her. “Quinn, I’d like to introduce you to my wife. This is Skye Monroe.”
“It’s a pleasure, Skye. I’m a friend of Marnee’s. I’ll be so glad to tell her you’re not dead.”
My phone buzzes again.
I pull my phone out of my pocket and check on the incessant buzzing.
It’s a picture of Marnee and Jake, gagged and tied up and beaten.