Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 64880 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64880 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
With a final dazed shake of his head, Pike pushed past her, following the nurse through the swinging doors.
“Wait,” Mia said, releasing Sawyer’s hand. “I’m O positive. I’ll donate, too.”
Mia hurried after Pike, not sparing Tulsi a glance. But as she passed by, Tulsi caught a glimpse of the hurt and betrayal tightening her best friend’s features. Things were never going to be the same between them. They might not be civil on the other side of this, let alone friends, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was Clem getting through the surgery and staying alive.
Tulsi crossed her arms tight at her chest, refusing to cry when Sawyer laid a gentle hand on her back.
“It’s going to be okay,” he said. “She’s a fighter and she’s strong. She’s going to be okay.”
Tulsi nodded hard and sniffed. “She will. She has to be.”
“Can I get you anything?” Sawyer asked kindly. “Water or a coffee? Find you a chair?”
“No, thank you,” Tulsi said, taking a step away, knowing she didn’t deserve comfort. “I should check on my dad and call my mom in Destin to let her know what’s happening. She’ll want to start looking for a plane flight.”
The ladies at the check-in desk let her know that her father had suffered a concussion and some serious bruising, but was in stable condition and being moved to a room upstairs.
“Can I go see him?” Tulsi asked. “Is he awake?”
“He is, but he’s put in a request for no visitors.” The blonde with the pencil shoved through her bun tapped a pink fingernail to the computer screen. “No one except his wife, no other family members.”
“What?” Tulsi shook her head. “Why? Can I at least talk to him on the phone in his room, I don’t—”
“I’m sorry,” the blonde said, casting a pointed look over Tulsi’s shoulder at the other people in line. “I’m sure he has his reasons.”
“Well, can I at least get the room number to give to my mom?” Tulsi asked in a small voice.
Dad must have decided Tulsi was to blame for the accident. She could practically hear his voice in her head—if she hadn’t asked him to drive Clem back to camp in the evening instead of letting her sleep over at his house the way he’d suggested, this wouldn’t have happened. She wasn’t sure exactly how her father was going to spin it, but somehow it would be Tulsi’s fault. It was always her fault.
She wrote down the room number and stepped outside to call her mom, relaying the terrible news in an unexpectedly steady voice. Mom was sobbing by the time Tulsi got to the part about Clem being in surgery, but Tulsi’s pulse beat slower with each passing moment until her fingers felt numb and her nose and lips cold despite the heat lingering in the evening air. Distantly, she realized she was probably having some sort of stress reaction, but she couldn’t worry about herself or her parents or Pike or Mia or anyone but Clementine.
Clementine, her baby, her heart, the ray of sunshine and trouble who made every day a blessing. Her daughter was so vibrantly, powerfully alive. God couldn’t take her away, he just couldn’t. It would be an offense against his own creation.
After Tulsi had hung up with her mother, she sat down hard on the curb near the ER parking lot, clasped her fingers together and prayed with everything in her that Clem would be okay. She prayed and begged and bargained, promising she would never lie or deceive anyone again if Clem pulled through. God might not think that prayers from a liar like Tulsi were worth answering, but Clem was innocent.
But then so were all the other children in the world who were abused, hurt, or killed every day. Innocence was no assurance that Clem would live. This was out of Tulsi’s hands. She was completely and utterly helpless to protect her daughter. With the genetic odds against her, she couldn’t even donate blood. And now, after all the years of sacrificing and keeping secrets to do what she thought was best for her little girl, Clem might not live to see her seventh birthday.
With a sob, Tulsi staggered to her feet and started walking. She walked across the parking lot, through the decorative shrubs, and into the dusty lot next to the hospital. She wasn’t sure where she was going, she only knew she couldn’t sit still another second, let alone the endless two hours or more it would take for her to be allowed to see her baby. She’d be back long before Clem woke up, but she couldn’t stay here and wait for things to get worse. If any news came between now and seven o’clock tonight, it was only going to be bad news, news that the surgery had failed and that her baby was gone.