Midnight Whispers (Cutler 4)

Oh Mommy, I cried inside, I didn't mean for this to happen. I'm sorry; I'm so sorry.

I didn't. realize I was crying until the first tear dripped off my chin and spattered on Jefferson's cheek. Then I sat back, took a deep breath, and prayed. I heard Gavin knock on the rear window and turned.

"Are you all right?" he asked. The wind was blowing through his hair as we traveled down the highway. I saw the deep concern in his eyes. I tried to speak, but couldn't get past the tremble in my lips. I shook my head and looked forward again at the oncoming road. Then I glanced at Luther. He was making the truck go as fast as it could. The engine sputtered and complained, but Luther's eyes were fixed on the highway like a man who had seen death before and was fleeing from the memories this new situation had resurrected.

It seemed like hours and hours before we saw the road sign that told us we were approaching the hospital. The overcast sky had grown darker and darker during the trip. I saw how the wind swayed the trees. People had begun putting on their headlights because it got so dark. I was sure we would be caught in a terrible downpour before we had reached the hospital, but all we had were a few drops on the windshield. When the buildings finally loomed before us, I let myself take a deep breath. The security man told us where the emergency room entrance was and we drove right to it. As soon as the truck came to a stop, Gavin hopped out and came around to open the door. Jefferson had not awoken, not uttered a sound the whole time. Gavin reached in carefully and gently lifted Jefferson off my lap. He backed away and I got out and followed him to the emergency room door.

"What happened?" a nurse asked the moment we entered.

"We think it might be tetanus," Gavin said. She came around the counter quickly and signaled for another nurse to bring over a gurney. Gavin lowered Jefferson to it and the two nurses quickly took over, one putting a blood pressure cuff on his arm, the other bringing a stethoscope to his chest. They both looked at each other with great concerti and then one began pushing the gurney down the corridor toward an examination room, out of which a young doctor had just emerged. I followed behind.

"What do we have here?" he asked them.

"My brother got very sick," I said. "He cut himself a few days ago on a nail and we think he might have tetanus."

"He never had an inoculation?" the doctor asked.

"I don't know," I said. "I don't think so."

"What did he cut himself on?" he asked while he lifted one of Jefferson's eyelids to look at his pupil. "A rusty nail . . . I'm sure," I said. The doctor looked up sharply.

"Well, where are your parents? Is that your father?" he asked, nodding toward Luther, who waited down the corridor with Gavin.

"No sir."

The first nurse whispered something to him and they pushed Jefferson into the examination room. The doctor followed. I started in, but the second nurse stopped me.

"Just wait out here," she said. "Go to the desk up there and give the receiving nurse the necessary information."

"But . . ."

She closed the door before I could offer any protest. My heart was pounding so fast, I thought I'd be the next one on a gurney. Tears burned my eyes. I backed away.

"What did they say?" Gavin asked.

"They want us to wait out here. I've got to give information to the nurse at the desk," I explained. He took my hand and we approached the counter. Luther had sat down on a chair in the hall and stared at us with that terrible expression of dread written all over his face. I looked back at the closed examination room door.

My little brother is going to die in that room, I thought. I brought him all the way here. He had held my hand and had trusted me from the moment we had left the hotel in Cutler's Cove, and now he's lying in a strange room, unconscious. My shoulders began to shake as my whole body shuddered. Gavin put his arm around me.

"He's going to be all right. Don't worry," he said. "Is one of you a relative of the patient?" the nurse at the desk asked.

"Yes ma'am," I said, wiping my eyes. "I'm his sister."

"Well, would you please fill out this form. Name and address over here," she said, pointing with a pen. I took it from her hand and looked down at the paper. My eyes were so clouded with tears, everything looked hazy—the words joining together on the sheet.

"This has to be filled out," she said more firmly when I hesitated.

I wiped my eyes again and sucked in my breath. I nodded and began. I filled out as much as I could, but when it called for parent or guardian, I stopped and left it blank. She saw that immediately.

"Why didn't you put your parents' names here?" she asked.

"They're both dead, ma'am."

"Well . . . how old are you?"

"Sixteen."

"Is this your guardian'?" she asked, nodding to-ward Luther, who hadn't moved or uttered a word.