I sat in the waiting room and tried to keep my hospital anxiety at bay. The paramedics had cleaned my shoulder--a deep graze that would hurt like hell for a while. Gabriel's leg, though, had needed a hospital visit.
Had they known the man, they'd have realized that the only sure way to get him there would have been to tie him to a stretcher. But no, they trusted that Gabriel was a responsible adult and would seek immediate medical attention. Which meant that it was up to me to get him to a hospital, and as long as he wasn't bleeding out, he didn't see the rush.
First, he had to make sure I wasn't going to be arrested. Then he had to contact the media himself and invite those of his choosing to a late-afternoon press conference. Then he needed Lydia manning the phones, which required stopping at the office to explain the situation.
I let him get there before threatening to induce bleeding if that would get him to the hospital. Lydia helped me cajole and bully him back into the car.
Now I was in the waiting room ... waiting. While reminding myself that if a guy took a bullet helping me, I really shouldn't dump him at the front door and flee.
I sat near a window, legs pulled up, enjoying the midday sun. When raindrops tapped against the glass, they startled me, and I looked out to see the sun still shining despite the sudden shower.
Rain on a sunny day. That's good luck.
I smiled. I could use some luck.
As for whether I could truly read omens, I knew only that things had changed. That I had changed. I didn't feel overwhelmed by sights and sounds and smells anymore. I understood it was information my brain needed to process. I was aware of stimuli there, tickling the edges of awareness, but it didn't bother me the way it had.
I'd changed in other ways, too. Maybe I was still changing. I knew one thing--I wasn't hiding anymore. I wasn't going to start calling myself Eden Larsen, but I wasn't going to pretend I'd never been Eden Larsen.
Gabriel stepped from the back room, looking annoyed, as if the visit had been a dreadful inconvenience. When he saw me, the scowl smoothed out.
"Everything okay?" I asked.
"They said I need this." He nodded down at a cane.
"And the fact that you took it suggests walking is more painful than you let on."
He held the door for me. "I'll use it for a few days."
A woman bumped into him, so intent on texting that she just kept walking.
"No, no, don't apologize," I said. "Really. It's okay."
Gabriel gave a half smile.
"Yes, I'm a whole lot braver when they can't hear me," I said.
"We'll work on that."
As we stepped out, I spotted a child standing in the ambulance lane. A dark-haired boy no more than three, frantically looking about.
I glanced back at the woman who'd bumped into Gabriel, still visible through the window, still texting.
"Are you looking for your mommy?" I called to the boy.
He nodded, solemn faced.
I put out my hand. He didn't take it but let me lead him into the hospital. Gabriel followed. When we got to the waiting room, the boy let out a breath of relief and ran to the woman. She shot him a glare of annoyance, gestured to a chair, and told him to be quiet.
"Bitch." I looked at Gabriel. "I'm ready to say that to her face now."
"It wouldn't do any good," he said.
I was holding the door when I realized he was still inside, watching the little boy. He noticed me and strode out.
We were at the car before he spoke. Even then he cleared his throat twice--pausing for a few moments after the first time, as if reconsidering. When we were in the car, he cleared it again and said, "At Evans's house. You said he had photos of my mother."
"Or someone he claimed was your mother. I wouldn't know, of course, and I suspect it was just a lure to get me there--"