Tracy’s legs gave way beneath her. Blake was dead—her Blake, her rock—but all she felt in that moment was relief. Nick was alive! It shamed her to admit it, but that was all that mattered.
“He had to be cut out of the truck. But he was conscious going into the ambulance. We’ll take you to him now if you’d like?”
Tracy nodded mutely. She started walking towards the squad car, stumbling through the snow like a zombie.
“Do you have a coat, Ma’am?” the cop asked. “It’s pretty cold out tonight.”
But Tracy didn’t hear him, any more than she felt the cold.
I’m coming Nick. I’m coming my darling.
EVERYONE AT YAMPA VALLEY Medical Center knew Tracy Schmidt. She was one of the hospital’s most generous local donors.
A nurse led her to Nick’s room. To Tracy’s immense relief, he was awake.
“Hi, Mom.”
His face was bruised and his lower lip was trembling. Tracy wrapped her arms around him like she would never let go. He started to cry.
“Blake’s dead.”
“I know.” Tracy held him. “I know, my darling. Do you remember what happened?”
“Not really,” he whimpered. “Blake thought someone was following us. A woman.”
“What woman?” Tracy frowned. “Why would he think that? ”
“I don’t know. I didn’t really see her. But Blake was kind of distracted I guess. One minute we were driving and the next . . .” He started to cry.
“Shhhh. It will be all right, Nicky. I promise.”
Tracy stroked the back of his head. Beneath her palm she could feel a lump the size of a hen’s egg.
Forcing herself not to panic, she asked, “Do you feel OK?”
“Sort of. I feel dizzy. And super tired. The doctors ran some tests.”
“OK,” Tracy said brightly. “You get some rest. I’ll track down that doctor and see what’s what.”
She didn’t have to go far. Dr. Neil Sherridan was already walking down the hall towards her as she closed Nick’s door behind her. Tracy knew Dr. Sherridan from the hospital fund-raiser she’d been to with Blake last summer. She remembered she’d worn a red ball gown and the diamond earrings Jeff had given her on their wedding day. Blake had beamed with pride to be escorting her, even though everybody knew they were mother and son. It all seemed like another life now.
“Mrs. Schmidt?”
“I felt a lump,” Tracy blurted. “On his head. Is he OK?”
“I’m afraid not,” Dr. Sherridan said gravely.
Tracy felt her stomach lurch, as if she were in an elevator and someone had just cut the cable. “What? What do you mean you’re afraid not?”
“We need to operate immediately.”
Tracy blinked, uncomprehending. At the gala, she remembered thinking that Dr. Sherridan was handsome. Now he looked hideous, like a devil. Why was he saying these dreadful things?
“I have the consent forms here.”
Tracy looked at the doctor, then at the forms he’d thrust in front of her.
“B . . . but,” she stammered. “He was talking to me. Just now.”