I woke the next morning to my alarm blaring. I turned it off and sat up. I rubbed my eyes and remembered the night before. I couldn’t help the goofy grin on my face as I floated to the bathroom to get ready for the day. My insides swirled with anticipation of seeing Ryan later that morning.
When I returned home the night before, I had no intention of bringing up the adoption. I told my parents that I needed some time to get over the initial shock. That was true, even though there was more to it. I didn’t want anything to bring down my mood after that kiss. That kiss! I could still feel his hands on me, strong yet gentle. Another thrill moved through me, adding an extra spring in my step.
Ryan was going to stay in Chester Bay. And partly for me. The gesture was huge and I wasn’t going to let him regret it.
To appease my parents, I’d told them we could talk about the whole situation at dinner that night. I wanted to hear more of what they had to say, but, after the initial shock, Ryan’s words helped me understand how they must be feeling too. They had their reasons to hide that information and I wanted to know why before I asked any questions.
I went to work early, partly to avoid contact with Mom or Dad. I didn’t want anything to bring down my mood. I grabbed a coffee and an iced hot chocolate—the only other drink Ryan liked from Pixie’s— before heading into the inn.
I was about to knock on the door to Dad’s office when it flung open.
“Dad!” I said, pressing my cup against my chest. “You scared me.”
His eyes were filled with concern.
I peeked into his empty office. “Did I interrupt something?”
He scrubbed a hand over his face. “No, I was coming to find you.”
“Oh, okay.” Dread settled in my heart like an anchor in the water.
“I just got off the phone with Detective Devereaux,” he said.
I ground my teeth together. “He said Ryan could come over last night as long as you two were there,” I said. “Did he get mad because we left? I can’t believe him!”
“That’s not it,” Dad said.
Another thought came to mind: did Devereaux finally go with his hunch and realize Joe’s death was a murder? Why would he call my dad at work?
“Ryan is in the hospital,” Dad said, slowly.
I swayed slightly. “What do you mean?”
Dad stepped closer to me, reaching a hand out to steady me. I tried to process his words.
“He’s stable now,” Dad continued.
Heat pricked the back of my eyes. “Stable now? When was he not stable?”
“He was hit by a car on the way home last night.”
“I have to go see him,” I said, heat pricked my eyes.
Dad shook his head. “Detective Devereaux asked that we respect their privacy.”
“Their privacy?” I knew Ryan would want me by his side. Phillip was exercising his ridiculous control over him.
“And I agree,” Dad added.
I flinched. “How can you?”
“If it was my wish for you or Madison, I would appreciate others respecting that.”
“He doesn’t care about any other visitors, Dad. It’s just me. He thinks I . . .” I stopped, not wanting to incriminate myself further.
Dad cocked his head. “What was that?”
“Remember, he thinks I’m a bad influence on Ryan,” I said quickly. “I’ll respect his wishes.”
“I hope you mean that.”
“I do, Dad.” I looked at the floor, not wanting him to read the lie in my eyes.
Dad assigned me to help with setup for an event in the ballroom that night. That would give me enough time to plot how I was going to get into Ryan’s hospital room unnoticed.
I turned away from Dad and started toward the banquet hall, tossing both drinks into the trash on the way. I knew nothing, not even my favorite drink, could remove the awful taste in my mouth.
While I was setting up almost two hundred folding chairs, my mind had plenty of time to wander. The mysterious text hadn’t been an empty threat. Had we gone too far and found the person who really did kill Joe? I was the one to keep pushing the investigation and now Ryan was in the hospital because of my determination.
I had to talk to Ryan and see if he remembered anything about the person who hit him. Was it Wendy’s boss, Ronnie? I didn’t want to think it could be the masked person. We barely had information on him but, if he was the one to poison a teenage kid, then he was not someone I wanted to ever meet.
Surprisingly, the day flew by. I didn’t linger afterward as I normally did. I had about an hour and a half to make it to the hospital, then home, before my parents noticed. If I pushed back their discussion, Dad would know I had gone to the hospital. I hoped Devereaux was busy enough with his work and finding out who tried to hurt Ryan that he would be away from the room.
My backup plan would be to go to the hospital every day until I was able to see Ryan, though I hoped his injuries weren’t bad enough to keep him there too long.
On the way over, I imagined how he looked. Battered, bruised and broken. I hoped my imagination was less accurate than the real thing, though getting hit by a car while riding a bicycle didn’t give Ryan much favor. I’d have to buy him a helmet and force him to wear it from now on. If it was me, I’d never get on a bike ever again. Ryan was more resilient than that, so a helmet would have to do. Or maybe I would drive him everywhere, though I wondered if his brother would refuse that offer because it involved me.
At the hospital, the receptionist in the lobby wasn’t aware—or at least she didn’t make it known—that Ryan wasn’t allowed guests. It helped that I told her I was his sister. She didn’t question it and told me his room number.
I quickly understood why she didn’t care. When I got off the elevator the floor bustled with nurses flitting from room to room. Devereaux had probably informed every single nurse on the floor to watch out for me or anyone else who tried to visit his brother. I steeled myself, put my head down, and walked quickly down the hallway. I was surprised to find Ryan’s room only a few doors from the elevator.
I took a breath and stepped in.
The steady beeping from the equipment filled the room. I swallowed hard and pushed the blue-striped curtain aside.
Ryan was asleep on the bed. One of his cheeks was swollen and almost black. His arm was in a cast and the other was wrapped in gauze. Along the edges of the gauze were red marks. I could imagine the damage underneath the dressings.
I frowned and shuffled closer to him. The closer I got, the more I wanted to cry.
“Who are you?” someone said from behind me.
I turned to see a very stern-looking nurse. Her over-plucked eyebrows formed thin arches over her eyes.
“I’m Cara,” I said, careful to keep my voice steady.
“No visitors,” she said. “You need to leave.”
I opened my mouth to say something when a familiar voice stopped me.
“She’s fine,” Ryan said in a hoarse tone.
I whipped around. My heart sang.
Ryan hadn’t moved anything besides his head, which now drooped off the pillow. He was either too weak to move or he was on some serious painkillers.
The nurse sighed and helped him get comfortable again. “You’re brother said—”
“I don’t care what he said,” Ryan pressed. “She stays. Tell him if he has a problem to talk to me.”
The nurse conceded. “I’ll be back in a little while.” She looked from me to Ryan before leaving.
I pulled one of the chairs close to his bed and lowered myself into it. I placed my hand on the sheet, careful not to touch him. Tears welled in my eyes and I sniffed, trying to keep them at bay.
“I’m okay,” he said weakly. He smiled, but the gesture looked pained.
“You look awful,” I said.
“Gee, thanks!”
I choked out a laugh. “You know what I mean. What happened?”
His uninjured hand bunched around the thin blanket and he clenched his jaw. “I don’t remember the specifics. I thought I looked before crossing. Then I ended up on the ground watching tires roll away.”
The arm with the cast moved closer to me. His fingers brushed over mine and I gently held them.
“Tell me if I’m hurting you.”
“I don’t feel anything right now. I was checking to see if you were a hallucination.”
I laughed, the weight of the accident flowing out of me. “Good medication?”
“Great medication,” he said, lazily dragging his words.
“Do you think that nurse is going to kick me out because of what your brother said?”
“Sorry about Phil. He can be an ass sometimes but when it comes to family he’s very protective.” He paused and licked his lips before continuing, “I told him everything about the case.” I made a sound. “Cara, I had to. This has gone too far.”
I nodded. “I know.”
“That’s why he had the no-visitors rule. I asked for you to be the exception. I need to work on his selective hearing.”
“So you think it’s related?”
“A hit-and-run days after that text? Yes.”
“But we weren’t even bothering Wendy.”
“I know. Maybe whoever wrote it changed their mind and wanted to send a stronger message.”
“I can’t believe this,” I said. “You could have been killed.”
“But I wasn’t.”
“But you could have been.”
He stroked my fingers. “We’ve seen what he’s capable of. If he wanted to kill me, I would have been in a body bag.”
I shivered violently at the thought. “This is so messed up! What are we going to do?”
“Phil is handling it. He’s following up on the leads.”
“Did you tell him about the break-in at Joe’s?”
“Yes. But I said it was me who broke in. I left you out of it.”
“Why?”
“It wouldn’t do us any good if you were grounded. I’m sure Phil would be able to get over it quicker than your parents.”
I had a feeling he was right, but I had a trump card over them with the adoption situation.
“Thank you,” I said.
“You’re welcome.”
My eyes slid across the room where someone darkened the doorway—and my stomach dropped.