So much for keeping some distance, keeping my heart safe.
Then again, I’d known it from the start, from the first time I laid eyes on him. Somehow knew this was different. More important.
More dangerous.
Meant to make me happy or shatter me to pieces if I let him.
My sister is smoking a cigarette outside the hospital. I slow down, unsure of how to go about this. She hasn’t invited me over, though from her calls and texts I felt she needed me.
Was I wrong?
Her dark hair, straighter than mine, is hanging limp on her shoulders. She looks like she’s lost weight in the days since I’ve last seen her. Can you lose weight in five days?
And I had no idea she smokes. I wonder if it’s a new thing, a facet of despair, or if I just don’t know her as well as I thought.
She throws the cigarette to the ground, grinds her shoe over it, and turns. Her gaze passes over me, then returns, and she freezes.
“Cosie.” Her lips form my name without a sound.
Her face crumbles.
Letting my backpack slip off my shoulder, I start toward her. She meets me halfway, crashes into my arms, and steady her, rock her slightly, back and forth.
“Soph,” I breathe against her hair. She smells of tobacco and disinfectant. “I’m here.”
“You shouldn’t—” Her voice catches on a sob. “Shit, Cos, I don’t know what to do.”
“You can let me buy you lunch,” I say and pull back to look at her tear-streaked face. “And tell me everything.”
“He’s not okay, Cos…” The words are a wail, and it’s breaking my heart. My eyes fill up with tears. “He’s so sick and so exhausted. He was coughing up blood.”
Oh shit. “What did the docs say?”
“They’re running tests, they said. It’s not fair, he’s been struggling since he left the Army, with his leg injury and all sorts of stuff, and now this…”
I wipe impatiently at my eyes. I’m here to help her, not break down along with her. “Lunch,” I say again. “We’ll have lunch. And talk.”
And then I need to figure out how long I can stay, how long my money can stretch so I can make sure my little sister is okay.
We eat cold sandwiches and drink hot coffee at a small diner near the hospital.
Well, I eat and drink because I’m starving after the bus ride. Soph picks at her food and takes small sips of her coffee. She keeps glancing at her phone.
“Would he call you if he needed anything?” I put my own phone on the table, beside my plate, and it’s a bad idea, because I’m itching to text Merc, or even better, call him, hear his voice.
Jeez, Cos. You’d think I can’t be away from him not even for a day.
Ridiculous.
“I don’t know.” She sniffs, wrinkles her nose. “Probably not. He’s doing his best to hide it, but he’s scared.”
Of course he is. If he wasn’t, he’d be an idiot. “Is it the first time it got so bad?”
She shakes her head, and there’s a sinking feeling in my stomach. “It got bad a few times, but this time he couldn’t breathe. Probably an allergic reaction to one of the drugs. He was turning blue, and I couldn’t… couldn’t help him.”
That catch in her voice is killing me. “They’ll get him well, Soph.”
She nods, but her eyes are red. “He’s so exhausted. He was always strong like a bull, he was…” A shake of her head. “And he doesn’t trust me. My fault.”