At His Beck and Call

Chapter 13: Cause and Effect

It feels as if I've been holding my breath for an hour. The road is long and unstable and the motions of the car aren't the only thing that's making me tremble. The reality of it is that the ride was only thirteen minutes: half of which was spent on the phone with Dawson. I let him know as much as I'd gathered, despite it being only the what and not the why. The details would have fallen on deaf ears, regardless. He hardly heard a word. He demanded to know where she was, and that's all he spoke. The harsh sound of gushing wind and a roaring engine was the last thing I heard through the receiver.

"Go to her. I'll distract them." Nessa turns around in the driver's seat to face me. Yolanda had already gotten out of the car and moved to open the backseat door, yet I hardly notice her presence. We enter the hospital in unison. Nessa goes straight to the front desk to tell a possible lie or inquire about some nonsense as Yolanda and I make our way to the elevators.

A security code must be entered to grant permission to the tenth floor. I quickly type Tony's birthday into the keypad to access the level. The building of the hospital was primarily funded by Dawson. The entire tenth floor was dedicated to him, and -in his honor- is primarily used for the homeless, his employees, and relatives. The rooms are spacious and furnished for long visits. Each room has its own dining table, desk, matching sofa and loveseat, as well as essential electronics. There are rooms for visitors to sleep in as well.

My sweaty palms grip the rail as my legs shake with harsh intensity. The image of me running to Zoe's bedside once the damned metallic walls of this slow-moving-box open play on repeat. I contain myself; however, by quickly gathering my things and pushing myself off of the beam holding me upright.

I murmur her room number, 10B, under my breath as I force myself to a slower pace. Once I turn the corner of the hall she was placed in... my heart stops. The shackles halt me as the heavy uncertainty burdening my heart weigh it to the brink of breaking. If I enter, and she is gone, how will I ever forgive myself? I have wronged her countless times; because of me she thinks her father doesn't love her, and her sister was taken from her. There are numerous years with them that she will never get back; and, yet, if she survives this, what will I do to right my wrongs?

Nothing.

I won't tell her the truth, so what will I do; carry on protecting her like I always have? Even that I can't do right. My eagerness to start a life with a man not my own caused this, and I cannot fix it.

Not like this. I can't help anyone thinking like this. Maybe... I might be able to assist in some, small way; correct the situation. Not in the traditional sense, perhaps, but I might be able to give her the gift of privacy, and ensure her affair stays a secret despite this devastating development. I just hope she lives to see my plans bare fruit.

A light sob flows into the hall. A new set of tears well in my eyes. I clench my shirt tightly as if to stop the heaving of my chest. It's almost amazing how such a barely audible sound can have such a great impact on me. It brings back memories of our childhood and of the first time I'd heard my brother cry.

It was late that absolutely dreadful night. I'd made sure to wait until Conner's parents were long gone from the mansion to even step foot on the property. He was terribly confused when I asked to come in. I told him it was important but made it seem to be urgent so that I wouldn't lose the little nerve I had. It took me so long to work up the gall to tell Conner the truth; a mistake I still carry as my deepest regret.

He took me to his room and sat me down on his bed. The words caught in my throat, so, as the clever boy he was, he moved to break the ice. "You're lucky my parents just left. My mother would kill me if she knew I had a girl in my room."

The next few words pooled from my lips faster than I could maul them over. "But I'm not just some girl... I'm your sister."

Glass cracks beneath my heel as I enter the destroyed room. Shards of a vase and table decor lay battered across the room. The table is flipped on its face with a single leg shattered from taking the initial force of the crash. Jennie stands in a corner shaking manically, her eyes wet and shifting between her dying best friend and her inconsolable father, who is bent over his knees in sheer grief. Soft cries and mumbled prayer are all that can be heard from him.