Beep.
Ten seconds passed.
“Yes, keep fighting! You have this, Carson. Fight for your baby!”
Beep.
Eight seconds passed.
Excitement filled me. His heart was picking back up and his lung function was improving.
Beep.
Five seconds passed.
We were nearly to the same vitals where we began. I touched his foot. “I knew you could do it. Keep pushing through the fog, Carson. Don’t stop! We’re here waiting for you when you wake up.”
Beep.
Four seconds passed.
The doctors checked the monitors as his heart rate steadied for several minutes. I kept my eyes focused on the green numbers as I counted and kept up the encouraging words. Taking his hand, I gave it a gentle squeeze. “You’ve got this. You’ve got this.”
Another sniffle caught my attention. Francesca was silently crying into Gabe’s chest like Marie was Bennett. I met Gabe’s eyes and they were filled with love for me.
We were going to survive this—all of us.
The doctor cleared his throat. “This is very good news. We will keep monitoring him closely and wait for him to wake up.”
Relief filled me. Carson was going to wake up. He had to.
Gabe stepped out into the hall with Trent. Francesca was asleep with her head on my lap. I stared at the wall, eyes out of focus. We had muted the TV long ago. The stench of old coffee filled the room. Luckily, my stomach was able to withstand it for now.
I checked the time. Twelve hours had passed. Every hour that went by was a good thing. The relief was immeasurable. Throughout the day, we took shifts sitting with Carson as permitted by the doctors.
I was exhausted as late evening approached. Throughout the day Gabe had been attentive, making sure Francesca and I ate. Earlier I had closed my eyes to rest but jolted awake at a nightmare of Carson not waking up. The feeling of loss had been too great to shake for some time. I had crawled into Gabe’s lap where he slowly coaxed it from me. Fortunately, telling someone helped.
From what Gabe had said, we would be leaving for the evening soon. Marie and Francesca were staying the night, which was good. Two was the max that could comfortably stay in the room.
“How are you doing? It’s good news about Carson. Twelve hours,” Trent said. I hadn’t noticed him walk up.
I gestured to the seat to my right. “It is good news. Each hour that passes without any complications is a good thing.”
A soft snore left Francesca as I finger combed through her hair. Trent glanced around the room before he settled into the seat. He was in a worn T-shirt and jeans. All of the security detail were dressed in casual wear today. It helped them to blend in.
“You’re a good friend, Willow. Marie told me what you did.”
Emotionally, it had been tough yelling at Carson to fight. Pure adrenaline and instinct had driven me to do it. I hadn’t cared what people thought. All I wanted was for Carson to be here. He’s my best friend. I can’t lose him. We need him.
“I had a sister once. We were close like you and Carson.”
Once. Had. These were more clues to Trent’s tragic past. Trent always revealed little insights of his past at the most unexpected times. While I was in the hospital he had told me about growing up in the impoverished parts of Ireland. After his parents died, he was adopted by a couple in the States within a year. Shortly after, his adoptive mother died from cancer and his adoptive father killed himself.
Trent had no one. And I wanted to bring him into our family.
There had been no mention of a sister. “Was this in Ireland or the States?”
He looked away focusing on the same wall I had been when he walked up. “States. She wasn’t my biological sister. After Irene died from cancer and Arlo killed himself, Lily and I were inseparable. Irene and Arlo were my adoptive parents.”
Lily.
Were.
I hated the past tense.
I placed my hand on top of his. “You don’t have to talk about it.”
“I know.” Again, he focused on the wall and I remained quiet. Trent liked to go at his own pace. “Lily’s grandparents took us in. They were kind, but older. Raising two teenagers was hard, but they pushed through. Then Nana got sick. It was ovarian cancer like Irene. It was devastating to watch her fade away each day.”
Trent scrubbed a hand down his face while his haunted eyes glanced my way. “The day after Nana died, Lily came up to me and gave me the sweetest hug. She told me she loved me and that I was the best brother a girl could ask for. We ate some sandwiches I’d made. She seemed okay. Sad, but okay.”
I closed my eyes bracing myself for the next part of the story. The part that made their relationship past tense. “Lily gave me another hug and a kiss on the cheek. Said she was going to rest upstairs. I didn’t think twice about it. The last couple of days had been exhausting with Nana’s burial and taking care of Papa. I fell asleep, too. When I went to check on her, she wasn’t in her room. I knew something was wrong when I read the note on her bed. It said, ‘I can’t take the hurt anymore.’ Frantically, I searched for her. I found her in the bathtub. She’d slit her wrists. I couldn’t find a pulse, and she’d been dead awhile.”
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” The story gripped my heart. It slew me to hear about such a strong man nearly brought down by the memories of his past.
“I wish I had fought for her like you did Carson.”
“Trent.”
He stared forward, not looking at me.
“Trent.”
Finally, he focused on me.
“You did fight for Lily. You stayed by her side and loved her. She needed help.”
“I should have seen it.”
“You were only a child yourself.”
He cleared his throat. “Thanks for listening. I shouldn’t have put that on you.” Share time was over. The memories were locked away somewhere deep.
I shifted slightly. “I’m glad you did. Our past allows us the foresight to know how to help people when they’re barely hanging on. While I was in the hospital you came in to sit when everyone was gone. You gave me hope with your positive attitude and determination. You’re strong, Trent. It’s admirable.”
Trent furrowed his brow and fought to remain in control of his emotions.
Gabe walked up and took in the scene.
Trent stood. “You’re a lucky man, Gabe.”
“That I am.”
Trent grabbed his phone and looked at the caller ID of an incoming call. He flexed his jaw. “It’s the lab. Let me take this somewhere private. I’ll be back.”
My eyes widened. Please let it be a match to Gabe’s DNA. It felt terrible wishing someone was dead.
Marie and Bennett had just walked in after being with Carson and the doctor and stopped beside Gabe who watched Trent’s retreating back. I knew Gabe wanted to follow Trent. Anytime something came up about Alex, Gabe’s demeanor hardened.
Marie gave Francesca a concerned look. “It’s time for us to go back for the evening. How is she?”
“Tired. She fell asleep about thirty minutes ago, but wanted me to wake her up when it was time go back in for the evening.”
In sle
ep, Francesca’s worry lines were gone. Hopefully being near Carson through the night helped. I knew it would have helped me if it was Gabe.
Gently, I nudged Francesca. “Hey, sweetie. It’s time you go back to Carson’s room for the evening.”
Popping up, she glanced to Marie. On a yawn she asked, “Any changes? Is he still okay?”
“Yes, darling, he’s doing fantastic. Better than the doctor had anticipated.”
Thank goodness.
Francesca stood anxious to see for herself. “That’s so good. Let’s head back there.”
Exchanging hugs with everyone, I said to Marie, “Please tell Carson I miss him and I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“We will. Night guys.”
They disappeared from the waiting room. “And then there were two.”
I leaned into Gabe and echoed. “And then there were two.”
He wrapped his hands around me, bringing me closer to him. It felt good to lean on someone and just exist for a few stolen moments. The last rays of light were disappearing beyond the horizon through the window. We turned when we heard the footsteps behind us.
Trent took a deep breath. “The finger wasn’t Alex’s.”
While we drove from the hospital to the hotel, I stared into the night, feeling numb.
The finger wasn’t Alex’s.
Whose finger was it? How had the fingerprint matched the one from the theft of the Botticelli? When was this ever going to end? It seemed like never.
We had made a tremendous step forward with Carson only to be shoved back again with the test results.
Why? Why? Why? I wanted to scream. But instead, I sat in the back of the car hardly moving or speaking. Gabe sat beside me with his fingers trailing up and down my arm. Briefly he’d pause on my wrist. He was taking my pulse.
We pulled up to the hotel. I barely noticed the opulence because of the haze I felt.
Of course, there was still a chance that Alex was dead. But, I doubted it. The coroner’s report stated the finger was missing on Alex’s charred remains, which was why I hadn’t worried so much about the results.
Trent had explained that originally the lab thought it was Alex’s, but they found traces of someone else’s blood. Digging deeper, Alex’s blood had been transfused into the finger. It was complicated and the lab had nearly missed it. That was why there had been a delay in the initial findings. It was so messed up.