Chapter Eight

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Excuse me, miss." Will spoke to the backside of a woman standing behind the counter.

"Yes?" She turned around.

"I need some information on a patient."

"Name?" she asked flatly, taking a seat in front of her computer.

"Georgia Abbott-Hall."

"Will?" Georgia called out.

Will turned to see his sister emerge from the ER waiting area just beyond the information desk. There were no visible signs that she'd been injured in any way, which immediately elicited opposing feelings of thankfulness and confusion.

"I'm sorry sir," The woman shook her head as she clicked on her keyboard. "But my records indicate that--"

"Never mind." Will interrupted. "I found who I'm looking for."

He thanked the woman then turned and walked briskly toward Georgia.

"You're okay?" Will inspected her from head to toe.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"I got a call from an EMT that you'd been involved in a bad accident and had been transported here."

"What? No. It's not me but a friend of mine. And why would an EMT call you?

"An EMT called me on your cell phone and--"

"Because my phone was in my car, I get it now."

"I don't. What the hell's going on?"

"It's a long story. Can we talk about it on the way home?"

"Sure, but I'm starving. Have you eaten anything recently?" Will inquired.

"No." Georgia shook her head.

"Hungry?"

"I didn't realize it until now but yes."

"I know just the place. Follow me."

"Actually, you'll have to chauffeur me."

"Where's your car?"

"In a ditch, totalled."

Will turned on the radio to help diffuse the silence. He could see that his sister was upset and he decided not to press her for details. The twenty-four hour diner was just a short drive from the hospital and he knew it was better to wait and get the whole story after filling Georgia with a cup of coffee at the very least.

They arrived in minutes. A friendly woman escorted them to a quiet corner table and they wasted no time in submitting their order. Once coffee was delivered and firmly in hand, Georgia took a deep breath.

"Jacqueline's in pretty bad shape."

"How bad is pretty bad?" Will questioned.

"Broken femur, ankle, collarbone, and wrist. A lot of cuts and bruises. Not good for anyone, especially not a diabetic."

"What exactly happened? And how did you manage to escape without a scratch?"

"I escaped because I wasn't even in the car."

"But the EMT guy found your cell phone and called me and said--"

"That's the long part of the story. A group of us got together to practice for our upcoming exam for Advanced Chocolate and Confectionery Technique. Right in the middle of tempering I got one of my massive migraines. It's like I was hit by a Mack truck. I asked Jacqueline if she'd drive me home because I knew I couldn't drive myself. I'd picked her up earlier so she didn't have her car. She got me home and in bed and then I told her she could take my car home. She called me this morning to check on me and tell me that she'd left her wallet over at our friend's place. I was over my migraine and told her to swing by and get me. We'd head over to pick up her wallet and then I'd take her back home. She'd have her wallet back and I'd have my car. But she never made it." Georgia paused, staring down into her coffee cup for a moment. "I didn't know what happened until one of the neighborhood patrol guys came to the gate. He passed the tow truck that had pulled my car out of the ditch. He knew it was mine. Thankfully no other vehicles were involved."

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