Chapter Nine:

Sego Lily

Sunday

 

 

The Hospital

St. George, UT

 

Becca awoke the next morning in the waiting room of the St. George Hospital. Her neck and back contorted. It was a small-to-medium-size building, as far as hospitals were concerned, about the size of her high school, the exterior covered in a mixture of real and artificial red sandstone. Inside, the smell of bleach and death.

Lee and Analise had slept in the car last night since the temperature was a near perfect seventy-five degrees. She looked up and saw Emily beside her, ready with a fresh cup of coffee.

“Hi, sweetie,” Emily said, with that saccharine look in her eyes. “Coffee?”

Becca nodded, rubbed her eyes, pulled her hair back with a hair tie, and took a sip from the cup.

“Good news,” said Emily, her eyes alive, excited. “Your mom is going to be fine. I just heard from the doctor. There will be some minor bruising and cuts on her face and body, but otherwise, she’s fine.”

Emily nodded at Becca expectantly.

Becca was still a bit hung over from the wedding and perhaps still in some minor shock from both the drive and the shooting and her own explosion of anger and the news and sight of her badly disfigured mom in the hospital at midnight, her subsequent collapse at three in the morning in the hospital room lobby—not to mention her tomahawking an active shooter—to muster much more than a weak smile in return.

“That’s great. Can I see her?”

Emily nodded.

Becca grabbed her coffee, rubbed her eyes again, stood up, and followed Emily to the room. And there she was. Her face bruised dark purple and yellow, or else obscured by bandages, gauze, and medical tape. She walked slowly to the side of the bed and sat down next to her mom, softly resting her hand upon her forearm. Rebecca’s eyes opened, ever so slightly.