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Orange streetlamps punctuated the night sky as they flickered past the window, the light distorted through the rain that fell in heavy sheets. The heavens had opened as the sun had fallen below the horizon and the sound of rain battering the roof of the car drowned out the sound of the radio, but it couldn't drown out the sound of Gaia's thoughts in her own head. They crashed around like a storm in her mind, kicking up a cacophany that she couldn't quieten. Flexing her hands around the steering wheel as she drove along the straight road that took her almost directly home, she dropped one hand to Zara's knee and glanced over at her. Her eyes were closed and her head rested against the window, bouncing on the glass every time Gaia failed to spot a pot hole in time, but she wasn't asleep.
"Dad'll be ok," Gaia murmured, her voice only just rising above the sound of the rain. "He's going to be ok."
"Mmm," Zara hummed. One hand went to her eyes, rubbing them before she pinched the bridge of her nose and sucked in a deep breath that she shakily released. Gaia curled her fingers around Zara's, rubbing her thumb over her knuckles, and her heart ached for her daughter's sorrow. Zara had a tendency to jump to the worst case scenario and latch onto it as though it was the truth, fearing the worst and allowing herself to believe that it would come true. But it wouldn't, not this time.
More than an hour had passed before they had heard anything, worrying themselves to death in the waiting room before a doctor had given Gaia an update. Evan would be ok. He was in surgery, which they had finally learnt after far too long, and he would be for several hours. The doctor had advised that they go home and come back during visiting hours tomorrow, but Gaia hadn't allowed him to leave without him telling her exactly what was wrong. She had stood just a few inches from him, her delicate frame hardly imposing, and she had refused to go without knowing what to expect. She would never be able to sleep without knowing what the situation was.
He had broken his arm, the doctor had told them. The immediate surgery was to fix a compound fracture, both bones of his right forearm having snapped and torn through his skin from the impact of a car slamming into him at forty-two miles an hour in a thirty zone. Gaia had felt nauseous at the thought alone, digging her nails into her palms when the doctor had explained his injuries, detailing the three broken ribs that would be agony and the concussion that would need monitoring. She had cracked a rib before, when she was pregnant with Alfie, and the pain had made life a misery for a couple of weeks when nothing she did made her any less uncomfortable.
Her head had swum as she had taken in everything the doctor had said, but she had latched onto the one thing that stood out: he had been lucky, and he would be ok. Most people who suffered an accident like his ended up with much worse injuries. Recovery wouldn't be quick or easy, and work was out of the question for at least a month or two, but he would be fine. As long as the surgery went well and the night passed smoothly, he would be allowed home within twenty-four hours.
Now, as Gaia drove home with Zara sitting silently beside her, she banked on those criteria. He would be fine. He would be battered and bruised and broken, but he would be fine, and after emptying herself of tears over the past couple of hours, she felt as though she could weep with optimistic joy. She had hugged the doctor, who had stiffly patted her back, and Zara had crumpled against her with a sob.
