He’d done this to her.
In trying to protect her, he’d hurt her emotionally and physically.
Adam walked over to the computer, punched in his access code and pulled up Liz’s chart to discover the extent of her injuries.
“Adam, you know you’re not supposed to look at Liz’s record. Close her chart for both our sakes,” Mona said from directly behind him.
“I want to know what’s going on. If Liz is in Radiology, I’m assuming she’s somewhat stable.”
“Her vitals were holding with no evidence of internal bleeding, if that’s what you’re asking.” Mona shook her head. “I really shouldn’t be telling you any of this. You’re not family, neither do you have a signed release that grants you knowledge about Liz.”
He gave the nurse a scalding look.
“You need to close her file. Now.” Mona stood her ground. “It’s against hospital policy for you to look at Liz’s chart.” Mona sighed, her momentary bravado wilting before his eyes. “I understand how you feel,” she said. “I felt so helpless when she just kept lying there unresponsive after the paramedics brought
her in.”
He winced at the vision her words elicited. The vision that matched his thoughts of losing Liz for ever.
When the knock on the door had come, he’d thought Liz had come back and he’d been filled with mixed emotions. Elation and dread. Elation that she cared enough to fight for him, that she wanted a future with him that much. Dread that he’d have to hurt her again because he had no future.
When the officer had identified himself, he’d been filled with total dread. Police officers didn’t make house calls during the night unless something bad had happened.
The officer explained there’d been an accident. Liz had lost control of her car and smashed into a tree. She’d been taken to Robertsville Hospital by ambulance and they were contacting him because he was listed as her emergency contact in her wallet. The policeman hadn’t been able to tell him more. Not even whether or not Liz was alive.
The hurt in Liz’s eyes when she’d last looked at him had haunted his entire drive to the hospital.
Mona was still talking, he realized. He’d caught the word “condition” a couple of times but not much more.
“Adam, close Liz’s chart, or I’m going to report you to the hospital administrator,” she threatened.
He glared. Not that he was afraid of being reported. He wasn’t. But he couldn’t blame Mona for doing her job. She was right. He had no right to access Liz’s chart.
“I can’t just stand here waiting for Liz to return to the emergency room,” he said out loud, having an entirely different perspective of how family members felt as they waited for news of their loved ones.
“Kelly’s here. I called her right after they brought Liz in. She’s gone for coffee. Maybe you could join her,” Mona suggested softly, placing her hand on his upper arm and giving a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll page you the moment Liz returns.”
Liz was pretty sure someone had mistaken her for an American football player. Because she’d been tackled by a three-hundred-pound lineman. Repeatedly.
Her head hurt, her chest hurt, and her leg hurt.
“Stay with me, Liz,” Dr Graviss ordered from somewhere to her right. His words didn’t make sense, which was strange as he was usually direct and to the point. She’d always admired that about the emergency medicine physician who was one of Adam’s closest friends.
She opened her eyes again, squinted at his fuzzy blond hair, and vaguely wondered what had happened to the bright light. “Where am I?”
“In Radiology. You regained consciousness while a CT scan was being performed on you.”
“A CT scan?” She tried to sit up and realized she couldn’t. That she couldn’t even move her arms. “Something’s wrong with my body.”
Dr Graviss took her hand and squeezed. “You’re strapped down to the table to cut down on motion noise on your scan.” He released a Velcro strap, but Liz still couldn’t lift her arms. They were too heavy.
“How much do you remember, Liz?” he asked gently.
“About what?”
“Tonight.”
“What happened tonight?”