28. Chapter 28
Charlie
The emergency entrance exploded into motion the second the helicopter touched down.
Charlie barely had time to step aside before the stretcher carrying Lorenz disappeared through a set of heavy sliding doors, surrounded by nurses and doctors moving at frightening speed. A voice called out numbers Charlie didn’t understand.
“BP dropping slightly—“
Through it all, Lorenz remained unconscious. He’d been that way for the last part of the flight.
“He’s going to be okay,” Ry tried to reassure her.
But he’d lost a lot of blood. What if—
“I mean it, Charlie.”
The doors swung shut between them.
Gone.
She wanted to run after them. Wanted to demand updates, refuse to be separated from him, even though there was no reason they’d tell her anything. She wasn’t his wife.
Not anymore.
Or not yet.
Beside her, Théo made a small sound. He stood next to Tristan, wrapped in a blanket that was too large for him, soot still smudged across his face.
“How was the flight?” Charlie asked, forcing herself to focus.
The boy let out something that sounded like a whistle. “When I grow up, I want to be a helicopter pilot. Just like Tristan.”
Tristan laughed. “What can I say? Théo has excellent taste.”
A doctor crouched in front of them, introducing himself as a pediatrician. He spoke softly in French to Théo, explaining that he wanted to make sure the boy’s lungs were okay after all the smoke.
Théo nodded automatically, but his fingers reached for Charlie’s sleeve.
She took his smaller hand in hers at once.
“I’m here,” she said quietly. “And I’ll stay until your mom gets here. She’s already on her way.”
The doctor brought over a wheelchair for Théo, which delighted the boy to no end. “That’s for me?”
“It is,” the doctor confirmed. “Very important transportation.”
Théo grinned, as if this was almost as great as the helicopter ride.
Charlie looked up to find Tristan watching her carefully. “Go with him. I promise I’ll come find you if there’s any news.”
Her throat tightened.
“Thank you.”
She followed the doctor and Théo upstairs, into a smaller examination room.
A nurse clipped a monitor onto Théo’s finger to check his oxygen saturation, while another took his temperature and blood pressure.
Charlie held herself still by the door, trying not to hover.
Eventually, the doctor came back and listened to his lungs.
“His lungs sound clear for now. Oxygen levels are great. We’ll keep him for observation a little while longer, but I’m happy with how he’s doing.”
Relief hit her, then. Théo was going to be okay.
Suddenly, the boy looked up. His legs dangled off the side of the examination table, sneakers swaying from side to side.
“Is Lorenz going to be okay?”
Her eyes burned. She turned her face, wiping the tears from her cheeks. She’d been trying to focus on Théo, but his question brought all her fears to the surface. Lorenz was somewhere in this hospital. Hurt.
“I hope so,” she said honestly.
The door opened, saving her from having to say anything else.
“Théo!” Madame Pelletier rushed into the room.
Charlie looked at the boy, waiting to see if there was any indecision on his face—anything that should give her cause for concern. But the boy’s expression was pure happiness as he launched off the examination table and into his mother’s arms.
“Théo,” the woman said again, squeezing the boy tightly against her chest. “Oh, mon Dieu,” she sobbed. “Mon bébé.”
Théo buried his face against his mother’s body and began crying, too, all the tears he’d held back pouring out now.
Charlie and the doctor both inched towards the door instinctively.
But the woman looked up and caught her gaze.
“Merci, Mademoiselle Brooks. Merci,” she sobbed.
“Of course,” Charlie said. “You don’t … you don’t need to thank me.”
The woman closed her eyes briefly. “I do. You … you’ve been a friend this whole time. And tonight … how can I ever thank you for bringing him back to me?”
“No need,” Charlie said, her throat tight. “I … I will be outside if you need anything.”
Tristan was waiting for her in the corridor outside with a paper coffee cup in his hand.
He held it out toward her without a word.
Exhaustion hit her as she looked at it.
When was the last time she’d had anything to eat or drink?
“No news yet,” he said gently, preempting her question. “Go on, take a sip. Then I’ll take you downstairs so you can be the first to hear as soon as Val comes out.”
Charlie lifted the cup to her lips. It was warm and sweet, but tasted of smoke—or maybe the smoke was already in her throat.
Her hands shook.
Without a word, Tristan took the cup back.
“Has a doctor seen you?”
She shook her head. “Ry did. In the helicopter. I’m fine.” She wasn’t going to let anything distract her from seeing Lorenz.
“Okay. Okay. Let’s take the elevator. I’m not sure you can manage the stairs.”
It was an attempt at humor, but it didn’t escape her attention how he kept his hand near her back the whole time.
The elevator doors opened at the far end of the corridor. Charlie looked up automatically—and stopped.
The entire team was there.
Beau, and Alex, and Hugo. Ry, who’d changed into a fresh T-shirt. Kat was there, too, still wearing her uniform.
Beau spotted her first.
“How’s the boy?” he asked immediately.
“Good,” Charlie said. “The doctor’s not worried. He’s with his mom.”
“That’s great news.”
“Come sit with me,” Kat said. “Val’s inside. She promised she’d come out and talk to us as soon as she knew something.”
Charlie let the other woman guide her to one of the plastic chairs.
Exhaustion and fear made her legs fold.
“We’ve only just found each other again,” she muttered.
“He’s going to be okay, Charlie,” Kat said. “You have to believe that.”
“Ry said that.”
“Ry wouldn’t lie to you. He knows better than to lie to you. You’re tough. You spend your days in a room with twenty small children, and manage to survive.”
Charlie smiled. “Twenty-two.”
Kat laughed. “Twenty-two. You’ll see, Charlie, everything’s going to be fine.”
The set of doors farther down the corridor swung open. Val stepped through, wearing dark blue scrubs that contrasted with her bright red hair.
The entire corridor fell silent.
Val’s eyes found Charlie’s and held, her expression softening as she walked quickly towards her.
“I’ve seen him,” she said. “He’s out of surgery. Everything went well.”
She spoke in the clipped tone of someone used to giving such news, and knowing how to do it fast.
“Surgery …” Charlie’s knees felt weak. He’d been in surgery this whole time.
“Shoulders can be tricky, but the bullet didn’t hit anything vital. He’s going to make a full recovery.”
Behind her, someone muttered in relief.
The corridor went blurry around the edges. Her legs, which had been fine until now, wobbled.
Val took Charlie’s arm and gently guided her back to another plastic chair. Charlie understood why everyone was treating her so carefully, but she didn’t want to sit. She wanted to see Lorenz. But the tears were rolling down her cheeks now, and she couldn’t seem to stop them.
“Can I see him?” Charlie asked.
“I’ll bring you in to see him in a minute. But first, some water.” A glass appeared in front of her, as if by magic. “He’s still asleep,” Val continued, “but he woke up briefly before we moved him to recovery.”
Charlie’s hand shook around the paper cup.
Val nodded. “He asked whether you and Théo were safe.”
Of course he had.
“And then he asked to see you. Repeatedly. Which is impressive, considering he was barely conscious.”
Beau walked up to them. “Figures. You’d better get in there, Charlie, before the fool tries to discharge himself.”
“Not going to happen,” Val said, but she was smiling as well.
Charlie finished the water and rose.
“You okay?” Val asked.
Not really.
Her body—her mind, too—felt wrung out. She could still smell the thick, choking smoke. She was nowhere near okay. But there was only one answer that would get her to see Lorenz.
“Yes.” She pulled on her sweater, straightening it. She had no idea where she’d left her jacket—maybe in the helicopter. “I look terrible, don’t I?”
“You do,” Val agreed, turning towards the door. “But he looks worse.”
Charlie laughed, following her.