I kept asking the same question.
“Is she okay?”
Finally, the doctor squeezed my hand.
“Her heartbeat is strong right now. We’re going to do everything we can for both of you.”
I started crying.
Not because of the pain.
Because Lucas should have been there.
He should have been beside the bed, making terrible jokes to distract me, holding my hand the way he always did when I was frightened.
Instead, the only familiar face that entered my hospital room forty minutes later belonged to Samantha Vance.
She carried a leather briefcase.
Her expression was unusually serious.
“Victoria, before we discuss anything, how are you feeling?”
“Scared.”
She nodded.
“That’s understandable.”
Then she pulled a chair beside my bed.
“Lucas came to see me six weeks before his accident.”
I stared at her.
“Why?”
“He was worried about your father.”
I shook my head.
“Lucas never said anything.”
