In Search of Tomorrow ✓

Twenty-Seven

There was the distinct sound of a shattering plate and running footsteps. "I'll be there right away. I'm leaving right now. Did you call your dad?"

"Can you just come over right away?"

Katie didn't ask any more questions, but she hung up with the promise that she'd be at the hospital in ten minutes.

When I set my phone back down on the bedside table, I collapsed back onto the pillows, feeling an oncoming headache. If I even thought of my sister lying in a hospital bed with all sorts of tubes and machines attached to her, I'd break.

After I told the nurse that Katie was on her way, she left to go check Clare. That left Cameron and I alone in the room, and I didn't have to be a mind-reader to know what was coming next.

But he didn't ask me about my confession like I'd thought he would. Instead, he gently pried the sheets out of my fingers, which were cramping from my harsh grip, and carefully turned me towards him.

"Everything will be okay," he said. "Katie will be here in just a few minutes and Clare will wake up good as new. You look exhausted. You want to try and go to sleep for a few hours?"

I did feel awful—like my eyes would droop shut any minute—but I was too worked up to even think about resting. "You try falling asleep while your little sister is in a coma," I snapped, crossing my arms. I still felt sore from my own injuries, even though I at least didn't feel like I was going to pass out anymore.

When I rolled over and checked my phone, I saw that it was just after noon the day after the crash—I'd been out cold longer than I'd suspected. That also meant that Clare had been in the hospital for almost twelve hours. Wouldn't she have woken up by now, if she was going to?

Despite how tired I was, I managed to stay wide awake until someone knocked on the door half an hour later. Cameron stood up to answer it, and when the door opened I saw it was Katie.

She had clearly rushed right over from her house. Her hair was still pulled up into a short, sloppy ponytail; her shirt looked splashed with soap and water; her sneakers had been shoved on untied. When she saw me, she rushed over and descended upon me, hugging me as if she'd never let go.

"You're all right!" she exclaimed, kissing the top of my head and smoothing my hair over and over again. "The nurse told me about the crash. I can't believe it!"

"Did you check on Clare?" I croaked when she finally backed away.

Her expression immediately morphed from one of relief into one of concern. "Yes," she said. "The nurse explained the situation. Evelyn, why—why was I the one you called and not your father? You need to let him know right away. Whatever business trip he's on isn't important enough—"

One tear after another leaked out of my eyes before I could stop them. It didn't seem fair right now, that my dad had left without a backwards glance to leave me all on my own. Did he not even care that all three of his daughters were hospitalized while he was who knew where, enjoying his life without us?

Katie immediately began finger-combing my tangled hair again, her expression sympathetic. "I'm sorry, Evelyn," she said. "I'm sure your dad's on his way."

"He'll never be on his way," I shot back, leaning away from her. Her hand dropped uselessly to its side. "He made that clear long ago."

Just as Katie opened her mouth to reply, her eyebrows furrowed together confusedly, an unfamiliar nurse stepped inside the room. She gestured for Katie to come to her, then said to me, "Give me two minutes and then I'm going to check your vitals, all right?"