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APRIL OPENED HER EYES, and licked her desert dry lips. She looked around the darkened room, taking in the plain walls and metal railings on the bed. In the dim light an IV drip beside the bed and beeping monitor offered the only motion in the room.
She tried to turn, and gasped as fire laced through her side. She’d been shot. This was a hospital. It hadn’t been a dream. The nightmare was real.
“Steven? Steven!”
A figure roused from a nearby chair.
“Where’s my son?” She grabbed the railings and tried to pull herself erect. But the stabbing throb of her injury sapped strength from her arms. “Please. Tell me about Steven, where’s my boy?”
“Steven’s in the hospital, too.” Childress levered himself from the chair and stepped closer to the bed. “The doctors are taking care of him. Relax, April, you need to rest.” His face was drawn and gray as the putty-colored walls. “You were in surgery for hours. I thought I’d lost you.” His voice shook and then steadied, and he carefully clasped her hand as though it might break.
She fell back against the pillow and took several shallow breaths. It hurt, God it hurt. Were they at the Legacy Center? Lizzie’s state-of-the-art medical team was the best, but how had she gotten here? “Where is Steven? I want to see him.”
“April, you were shot and the ambulance brought you here, to Heartland General. Steven’s here, too. He’s in . . . in another ward, they had to sedate him. He’s under observation.”
“But he’s okay? Steven’s fine?”
Childress hesitated and then nodded. His hand tightened on April’s.
As she relaxed on the bed she squeezed his hand back. “Good. Then he’s safe.” Her eyes fluttered. She felt so tired.
“He’s going to need help, April. He’s been through a lot. God, I love him so much.” Childress’s voice broke.
She levered her eyes open, surprised. “But Steven’s cured, Doug. I found a miracle for him. You wouldn’t listen to me, but I found a way to make it happen.” She sighed. “I don’t want to fight with you anymore. What’s done is done.”
He stared at her, lips tight, then nodded. “You’re right, April. What’s done is done. You rest now. When you feel better we’ll talk about next steps.” He smiled. “We’ll get through this together, for Steven. Whatever he needs, April, we’re a family.”
“My son . . .” Her eyes drifted closed.
“OUR son.” He squeezed her hand again, and to April it felt like she’d finally come home.
