Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
“Now, as I’ve said previously, I would prefer if you would stay under observation longer, but I am comfortable enough to release you, so long as you follow up with your primary doctor,” the head of neurology tells Tinsley for the fourth time, and while I appreciate his concern, he is starting to annoy the shit out of me.
“Thank you, doctor. I appreciate your concern, I really do, but I promise, I will have a qualified doctor oversee my care for the immediate future.” Tinsley gives the doctor a small smile—that he does not deserve—and this seems to placate him.
“I coordinated with your lead nurse, and Tinsley’s images and test results have all been sent to the doctor I’ve hired to personally oversee her care in Nashville,” Wells pipes up from where he’s leaning against the far wall of Tinsley’s room.
She’s been an inpatient since the accident five days ago and is ready to get out of the hospital, although hesitant to leave Fiona.
We will stop by the ICU before we leave today, and I’m sure Tinsley will be in constant communication with Fiona’s sister Dahlia.
“Right, well I’m sure you will be in good hands then. Please take care and be gentle with yourself, Miss Sinclair. I wish you a full and speedy recovery.” The neurologist shakes her hand before nodding at Wells and me, then walks out.
Wells follows him and closes the door promptly after his exit. “I don’t trust him.”
“Wells, please. I’m sure the doctor isn’t the one leaking info to The Spill.
It’s probably some random volunteer in the hospital or something.
” Tinsley tries to dismiss her brother’s concerns, but I’m partial to agree with him.
Someone has been updating the press on what Tinsley has been eating, what tests she’s had done, and even who her visitors have been.
And of course—the fact her mother and former manager and stepfather have not been on the list, like she needs those reminders. Wells said his mother did call him, but all he was willing to tell her was that Tinsley is going to be fine.
I told him they could just read her updates like the rest of the world, to which he said he was sure they would know who the leak was if his mother was in the room.
One small detail they haven’t seemed to leak yet is the fact that I have not left Tinsley’s side.
I’ve slept in her private room, refusing the hospital’s offer for me to sleep in an adjacent room.
I’d rather not sleep at all than be away from her, especially when the nightmares started the second night.
Tinsley insisted I climb into bed with her, which isn’t exactly easy at nearly six-four, but we made it work, and so long as she was in my arms, she slept.
And that’s all that matters now—she needs to rest and heal.
I can’t fully control access to her here.
Despite Thor and his team being a constant presence, she still gets interrupted or disrupted by someone else’s schedule or needs.
I need to make sure her needs are met first, not whatever vital check needs to happen or what new questions the detectives may have for her.
When Tinsley recalled Roman not being able to brake before the crash, the detectives quickly followed up with more questions, and less than forty-eight hours later, they updated us with their findings.
Someone had tampered with the brake lines on Roman’s Ferrari.
It wasn’t a complete cut, but someone punctured the brake lines which caused brake fluid to leak as Roman drove the vehicle, ultimately causing the brakes to fail altogether.
The police are investigating it further, but with Daphne here in New York City, they can direct all questions to her and she will involve Tinsley when and if necessary.
The leak of information has not helped the public uproar after the accident.
It has been ugly and vicious; theories and blame are flying with every click online.
I already have my attorneys working to get some stories pulled that imply the accident was Tinsley’s fault.
A lip reader told The Spill that Tinsley and Roman were fighting before they left the Grammys, but Tinsley insists the article was inaccurate at best, a fact I already knew when the lip reader said they were professing their love to each other before she left to go on stage with Fiona.
We make our way from Tinsley’s room to Fiona’s room in the ICU.
Two days ago, Fiona developed ventilator-associated pneumonia.
Her doctors assured us that there are certain complications that she will be more vulnerable to due to her head injury.
They put her on antibiotics but warned it may require prolonged ventilation.
But for that to really be an issue, we would need Fiona to wake up.
And Fiona hasn’t woken up.
Not once since the crash.
We know there are all kinds of conversations ahead, but the doctors are still saying it’s possible for the swelling in her brain to go down and her body just needs to focus on healing.
Her older sister, Dahlia, arrived in the early hours after the accident and hasn’t left her side.
Tinsley has filled me in a little on their family dynamics, and it is my understanding that it’s just the two of them—and what I’m pretty sure is a baby Dahlia is pregnant with, but Mama taught me better manners than to ever comment on a woman’s stomach size.
Dahlia is currently pursuing her doctorate in psychology and plans to be a sports psychologist specializing in performance anxiety issues, specifically with professional baseball athletes.
Tinsley said she’s very academic and that Dahlia and Fiona couldn’t be more opposite, but they love each other fiercely.
As we enter Fiona’s room, Dahlia turns and stands to meet Tinsley with open arms. Both women start crying, but Wells and I stay back, giving them a moment.
They’re having a private conversation in hushed tones, but I can’t make anything out, other than the rhythmic hissing from the ventilator and consistent beeps from the machines monitoring Fiona’s heart rate.
The women talk for a few moments before Tinsley takes a step back, inviting us into the conversation.
“Thank you for everything you’ve done for my sister, Mr. Callahan and Mr. Sinclair. Ms. Cromwell has been extraordinary as well and I know my sister is receiving the very best care possible.” Dahlia keeps her composure as she speaks, but her eyes fill with tears, despite her steady tone.
“Please, Dahlia, call us Jack and Wells. You don’t need to be so formal with us, okay?” She nods and looks away. “Are there any updates today?” I ask, trying to be as gentle as possible with my voice.
Dahlia raises her gaze and there are no words for the look of devastation on her face. She tries to clear her throat before speaking. “The scans are not showing any promising results yet, but I refuse to give up on my sister.”
“We will do everything we can to stand with you and Fiona. Whatever you need, if there’s a specialist that could help, if there’s treatment that she needs, anything. You just need to tell Daphne, and we will handle it, all of it. Okay?” Wells speaks up.
“Thank you so much. I appreciate that, and I know she does too. She would be so embarrassed by all the fuss when it’s about her personal well-being instead of her career, if she only knew how her face is everywhere now.
” She wipes away a rogue tear. “Not at all what she hoped after you two did so amazing at the Grammys.” Dahlia’s voice trails off and Tinsley brings her into another hug.
Tinsley and Dahlia pull apart, both wiping away tears as Tinsley walks over to sit next to Fiona’s bedside and gingerly picks up her hand.
“So, Fi, I won’t be here for a little bit because apparently you and I draw too much attention when we’re together—go figure.
But your sister is going to keep me in constant communication.
I’m probably going to annoy her, but it’s only because we all love you so much.
It would be fantastic if you could come back to us and show us those gorgeous eyes, but if you need more time to rest, then you do that. We just want you back.”
Tinsley’s voice cracks and I don’t stop my feet from walking to her so I can place a hand on her shoulder.
“Please, Fi, you have to come back to us. We all need you, and I don’t want to do this without my bestie.
I love you so much and I’m so…” She pauses to look up at the ceiling as she wipes away tears and takes a deep breath—or as deep as she can right now—before continuing, “I’m so damn sorry you were in that car with us.
I need you to wake up and yell at me about it or tell me to stop blaming myself.
Yell at me, laugh at me, I don’t care, I just need my bestie to come back, okay?
You hear me? I love you forever, Fi. I can’t wait to hear your voice again.
” Tinsley stands and leans over Fiona’s bed, with the room silent other than the ventilator that’s breathing for Fiona right now.
She softly kisses her friend’s forehead, careful to avoid the bandages from some of the cuts she received from glass and debris in the crash.
Tinsley turns and leans into me as I wrap my arm around her.
Wells reaches over and squeezes her shoulder in support, but I’m not letting go of her, not this time.
We stay for a few more minutes until a doctor comes in to discuss recent test results with Dahlia. As we say our goodbyes, Tinsley makes Dahlia promise to call or text her with any needs or updates, and Dahlia vows to keep her in the loop.
Tinsley asked yesterday if she could stay at the hospital so she could be with Fiona, but there is a valid security concern with both of them here, especially with how angry some of the public outcry is about Tinsley’s involvement.