Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87880 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87880 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
The doctor wipes his face. “One of you can come,” he says, looking around. “I’m sorry. He’s fragile and we need to be careful.”
“I’m going,” Casso says before anyone can argue. Karah looks like she wants to tell him to fuck off, and Gavino’s pale and silent. But nobody argues. Casso is the Don, after all. The Don and their brother and the one that feels most responsible for this nightmare.
Casso tosses me a look before he follows the doctor, speaking quietly. The door slowly swings shut.
Elise sits next to me and sighs. “Stable,” she says, looking up at the ceiling, tears in her red-rimmed eyes. “That’s a good thing.”
“Stable doesn’t mean he’ll pull through,” Gavino says bitterly. “Just that he’s not actively dying.”
“Have hope,” Karah says, pushing her brother.
“Fynn’s strong.” Nico puts a hand on Karah’s knee. “If anyone can pull through, he can.” But the words sound empty.
“Stable,” Elise repeats, babbling now. “I hate that word. Stable, like he’s a bland little mountain, oh so stable, but so boring. Is that all we want from him, stable? I want more than stable. What’ll we do if he doesn’t wake up?”
I shake my head and stand. I’m trembling. I shouldn’t be here. I’m not a part of their family, not a part of this world. “I need some air.”
Elise shrugs, lost in her own thoughts. I walk to the door and Karah watches me, frowning. “You need someone to come with you?” Gavino asks.
I shake my head. “I’m fine. Just going out front.” I push open the door and leave. Nobody follows as I retrace my steps to the elevators and ride them down to the front lobby in silence. Nobody cares what I do right now. I could grab a bus and ride it as long and as far as it’ll take me, but what good would that do? Abandon Casso when it matters the most? He’d hunt me down and kill me and I’d deserve it.
Hospitals are strange. Life is kept separate from death and pain and suffering. People fill the lobby, some sick, others not. The patients remain in their rooms. I wander down a tile floor, past an information kiosk, past two armed police officers, and out into the brutal afternoon sunlight. Nearby, a nurse smokes. The smell is sickening and I walk away toward the parking lot.
I don’t know what to do. I want to comfort Casso, but I feel at a loss. For so long he’s been my enemy, and all I wanted was for him to feel a small amount of the pain I’ve been through since Manuel died. Now that’s coming true, and his brother is on the edge of dying, and I feel as though I’m responsible somehow, like I manifested it into being.
Cars reflect sunlight and the blacktop sends heat waves wiggling into the air. It’s brutal and sweat pools under my arms. I don’t care. I welcome it. None of the others know me, not Karah, not Elise, not Gavino or Nico. I can’t help them even if I wanted to, and I feel so worthless, so pathetic. This is a familiar feeling: I lived my whole life down in Mexico thinking I was no better than the furniture, and at least you can sit on the furniture.
But standing there alone on a strip of grass on the median in the middle of the parking lot, I think I understand what my role has to be. Casso needs a rock right now: someone strong enough to help him weather what’s coming, no matter what it is. I can be his island in the storm. I can help him cling to himself. No matter what happens with Fynn, I can be there, steady and available. I have to do it for him, because nobody was there for me when Manuel died, nobody was there when I was sent back to Mexico, but I have a chance to do things better. And I will. It doesn’t matter if Casso deserves my help or not. This not about deserving anymore. We’re all flawed, all cowed by our past. I need to break the cycle and try.
A person steps out from between cars not far away. I look up, frown a little, look away, then stagger sideways and stare. Danil smiles at me from behind a pair of dark sunglasses. He takes them off and walks closer.
I put my hands in the air as if that can stop him, like I’m warding him away with magic. “What are you doing here?” I blurt out, looking around for those cops. But they’re still inside and we’re fifty yards away from the entrance, lost in the sea of SUVs and trucks.
“I was hoping I’d get a chance to speak with you alone and look at how that worked out.” His face twists into a facsimile of a smile. No joy touches his eyes. “How is everyone in there?”