// thirty – nine //
Julie Hunter visited Ella at the hospital that Tuesday.
Ella had been eating lunch when there was a soft knock from her recovery room's door, and with slow and careful steps, Julie entered the room.
"Ella Jane," she greeted in a worried tone. "How are you feeling?"
The flat, plastic tray of stale hospital food had hastily been pushed away. Ella couldn't help the shocked expression that automatically spread across her expression, managing to slowly work her way into more of an upright position against the mattress. She was stumbling into a half-hearted protest already, blurting out, "Mrs. Hunter – what are you doing here? You didn't have to drive all this way to see me."
Julie offered a small smile, one that just barely reached her eyes in a tiny spark of color. She seated herself in the worn armchair by the right side of Ella's bed, the same spot Mac Ferreri had taken when he'd questioned Ella. Julie reached across the edge of the mattress and, with the greatest amount of care, patted Ella's right hand gently. "Of course I needed to see you, Ella. But tell me how you're doing. How's your shoulder?"
A warm smile spread across Ella's lips, one that persisted despite the slight throbbing pain from the stitches. Her voice still sounded dry and cracked when she spoke. "I'm doing a lot better. Dr. Haverford says I might get to leave by the end of this week. But – " She paused and glanced down at her right arm, limp against the cream-colored sheets. Ella lifted her hand and both their eyes traveled to her rightmost fingers, hanging uselessly downwards, away from the rest. " – I can't move those two fingers anymore. There was nerve damage, or something. I don't know."
Julie's eyes had widened in horror – and there was no way for Ella to be sure, but she could have sworn they began to water with tears. So Ella hastily continued, adding, "It's okay, though, I'm lucky. Really, really lucky. Besides, I start physical therapy next week. The feeling will probably come back."
It was a lie, of course. The doctor had sounded doubtful when he spoke with Ella's parents, and now that Ella had been awake for several days, she had realized how dead those fingers felt to her. It was as though there were two weights tugging at the second half of her right hand, a constant faint annoyance that Ella was gradually getting used to. To her, it didn't seem like the feeling in those two fingers would ever come back – but she wasn't about to confess this to Julie.
"I'm so sorry this happened to you," Mrs. Hunter told her quietly. She was leaned close to Ella, one elbow pressed into the mattress, and each word was spoken so softly and gently it was as though she was afraid to startle Ella. "Did the police find out who did it?"
Ella's gaze dropped to the hospital bedsheets before her, unable to look Julie in the eyes as she lied. "No, I still don't know who it was. They haven't gotten any leads."
Julie shook her head somewhat angrily, as though she was upset with how poor the police were at investigations. Little did Julie know, the man who'd shot Ella had been dead for several days. Ella had been the one to kill him, but of course, those words were tightly locked away somewhere deep inside Ella's mind. She would never be able to speak them out loud.
Not even to Ryan.
At this thought, Ella remembered all at once how distraught Julie had been after learning that her son had been arrested. She tore her gaze away from the bedsheets and took in Mrs. Hunter's appearance, for the first time truly taking in every detail. A minute of silence had long since passed, so Ella's voice sounded strange as she cautiously broke it. "How – how have you been doing?"
The older woman had her dark brown hair pulled up into a loose bun, and Ella was relieved to see that it looked freshly washed. She had worried Julie would have sunk into a helpless pit of depression since Ryan's arrest, considering the state she had been in when Ella had last seen her. There were hollowed dark circles beneath her eyes and her skin contained an ashy-grey tint, but Julie was clearly stable enough to leave the house and drive into the city. Ella felt a strong, cool rush of relief.
Julie gave a weak smile in response. "You don't need to worry about me, Ella Jane. I'm doing just fine. Well, as fine as I can be."
Ella wanted to reach out a hand toward her, but the thick bandages and sore wound on her right shoulder would have prevented the movement. So instead Ella looked at Julie seriously, with an expression full of genuine sincerity. In a low and quiet voice, Ella told her, "I want to thank you. For getting Rosie from the motel."
The dull light behind Julie's eyes brightened, just the tiniest amount. She patted Ella's hand for a second time, and now her fingers lingered, a warm weight against the back of Ella's limp knuckles. The corners of her eyes crinkled softly. "Of course, Ella. Of course. You don't need to thank me."
"But I do," Ella insisted. "It was a lot for me to ask, especially without explaining anything. I don't even remember calling you. I'm sorry if I scared you."
Julie squeezed Ella's hand, as gently as possibly, and offered another weak smile. She admitted with a tiny laugh, "You did scare me a little. When Ryan's phone rang and it was you, I didn't know what to think. You – you were very...out of it. I couldn't convince you that I wasn't Ryan. You kept asking him to help you. If it had been anyone else, I would have ignored you and hung up – but I knew something was wrong. Your sister was just as lost as I was when I asked her what had happened."
Guilt was swelling in the base of Ella's throat, cold and viscous, but she swallowed hard to push it back down. All Ella could was repeat herself. "Thank you. I'm so sorry, but I can't explain why Rosie was at the motel. I know that's horrible, after all you did for me, but I just – I can't. Thank you, Mrs. Hunter, I hope you understand."
"You don't have to explain," Julie replied insistently, though Ella could sense the spark of curiosity behind her tone. However powerful her interest was, Julie didn't press her for answers, and Ella couldn't have felt more grateful. In an odd moment of normality, Julie gave a tiny grin and added, "And it's Julie, remember? Besides, it was the least I could do for you. I've said it before, but it's the truth, Ella Jane. You mean a great deal to Ryan. You're good for him. You always have been."
The older woman's voice broke slightly at the mention of her son. Ella bit the tip of her tongue, the apples of her cheeks burning slightly, because she desperately wanted to know every detail of how Ryan was doing. The question burned inside her, the one Ella had been wanting to say it since Julie had first entered the hospital room. Finally, after a full minute of soft silence, Ella felt able to hesitantly ask, "How is Ryan?"
"He calls every other day," Julie replied quickly. It seemed it was easier for her to speak about Ryan's well-being, rather than her own. Despite her stronger tone of voice, Mrs. Hunter's gaze had dropped to her lap and focused on her hands clasped together, as though nothing could possibly interest her more. "They never give him more than five minutes to talk. Ella, you...you should know that his trial is this Friday."
Ella felt her stomach clench. That was too soon, much too soon. Would Ella be released from the hospital by then? There was no way to know, but she was sure she would try to make it either way. Even if Ella couldn't testify for him, she wanted to be there.
"I'll speak for him," Julie continued softly, because Ella had been too deep in thought to reply. "The lawyer says that will help. I just wish we could have afforded his bail. I wish he was home. This would be so much easier if he was here. But I got to visit him yesterday. Only for twenty minutes."
"How did he look?" Ella blurted, unable to hold the question back.
"He looked...tired. Really tired." Julie hesitated then, as though she was unsure if she should say anything more. Something inside her must have won the reluctant side over, and Julie continued much more slowly. "But – you should know that I told him. About what happened to you."
Ella felt something squeeze inside her chest, hard. Some irrational part of her had thought Ryan would never know. She swallowed before replying, her throat and tongue suddenly dry as parchment. "Oh. How – um, how did he take it?"
This was where Ella knew it hadn't gone well. Julie's eyes remained fixated on her lap, unable to look Ella in the eye any longer. Ella felt her heart sink, heavy as a frozen stone, into the pit of her gut. This moment of silence was the worst yet, and Ella felt a wave of nausea, like she was physically ill from it all. Julie's hesitation had to be ten times worse than what she had to say.
Of course, Ella was wrong.
"He...he didn't take it well. After I told him, he wouldn't look at me. We were alone in this small room, but there were two officers just outside who could see us – so he was trying to hide it." Julie's voice cracked and she hesitated, as though unsure if she should continue. But she gave in after a long moment, her voice dropping several octaves, nearly to a whisper. "Ryan, he...he was crying. I haven't seen him cry since he was eight. He bent over so I wouldn't see, but I knew. I knew. I...I've never seen him so upset."
Acid burned the base of Ella's throat, and she thought she might be sick. She tried to picture Ryan crying, but the image wouldn't come. She couldn't imagine Ryan Hunter, who always hid his emotions like they were secrets, actually crying.
He knew. He must have known straight away that Ella's getting hurt had been no drive-by, that no stranger had done this. Ella knew, instantly, what had made Ryan so distraught to the point where he had broken down. She knew Ryan thought it was his fault.
"But I kept telling him you were okay," Julie hastened to add, and Ella knew her complexion had gone white. Her hand was tight around Ella's again, and Ella was incredibly grateful for the distraction. The guilt was threatening to choke her. "He knows you're safe now, Ella. I talked to him this morning. He sounded much, much better. And I'll let him know I saw you."
"Thank you," Ella choked out. She found the words somehow, numbly forcing her voice to function. "Tell him not to worry about me. Please tell him he shouldn't feel – "
The word guilty froze on the tip of her tongue before it could pass her lips. Ella couldn't say it, not to Julie. She might piece too many things together, especially if she had heard about the fire in Jackson's apartment. Ryan wouldn't want her to know, and Ella didn't want her involved, either.
"You can tell him yourself," Julie cut in gently. She removed a tiny slip of paper from the pocket of her winter coat, pressing it into the palm of Ella's left hand as she reached for it. It was a ripped piece from a yellow notepad, and a phone number was scribbled haphazardly across it in pale graphite. "It's the number of the prison. You won't be able to call him, but Ryan will call you soon, maybe tomorrow. He only gets one phone call per day, so he was waiting until he knew you were awake and would have your cellphone. I wanted to give this to you so you would be sure to pick up when he calls."
Ella clutched the tiny piece of paper tightly. There was a lump in her throat, one that had appeared with no true cause, yet one that made breathing difficult all the same. She swallowed hard, but it didn't lessen. Slowly, Ella repeated for what may have been the tenth time, "Thank you. Thank you so much for everything."
Julie smiled weakly, and Ella wanted to cry. She thought of Ryan in that prison, whether he was alone in a jail cell or mixed in with complete strangers. She thought of how he must have felt when he'd heard Ella had been shot. For the first time, Ella felt a tiny sliver of regret for what she had done.
Not regret for taking someone's life, because she was now positive Jackson had killed Colin, and who knew how many other lives Jackson had extinguished as though it was nothing. Ella felt regret for the way Ryan had to find out. She felt regret for not being there to explain that she had done it for him. Not a single ounce of what had happened was Ryan's fault.
Softly, Ella whispered into the sleepy silence of the hospital room, "I miss him."
Julia was crying, but it was the sort of slow tears that slipped down one's cheeks in silence. The older woman held Ella's hand tight.
"Me too, Ella Jane. Me too."