Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 119680 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119680 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
She turns to me, eyes wide.
“That’d be great,” I tell the nurse. “I got you, Snowflake. You don’t have to do this on your own.”
We follow the nurse down the hall.
“I don’t know how we’re going to afford this. I don’t know what my dad’s plan at the ice cream factory will cover,” she whispers.
My mom is Canadian and so is my uncle Alex, so healthcare has always been a huge part of the Hockey Academy, especially since so many players are subsidized. “The Hockey Academy has a family fund. It’s specifically for situations like these. My dad will be able to help.”
“I hope we don’t lose the cabin,” she murmurs.
“You won’t. They won’t let that happen.”
When we reach the waiting room, the nurse tells us she’ll be back with an update as soon as she can. Winter’s dad is stretched across three chairs. He’s wearing worn, grass-stained jeans and a holey T-shirt. The room smells like an ashtray and a brewery. One of his shoes is on the floor, and his big toe pokes out of a hole in his sock. A pack of smokes peeks out of his jeans pocket, and his mouth hangs open. He’s fast asleep.
Winter grinds her teeth as she unlaces our fingers and pokes him in the shoulder. “Dad. Wake up.”
He startles and sits up in a rush. “The fuck is wrong with you? You don’t wake me up when I’m sleeping.” His eyes dart around as he takes in his surroundings. For a moment he looks confused, but when he sees me, his eyes narrow. He scrubs a hand over his face. “’Bout time you finally got here. I left you a voicemail a long time ago.”
Her hands ball into fists and her voice shakes with barely restrained fury. “I thought it was more of you telling me how useless I am and not to come home, so I didn’t listen to it. What happened to Mom?”
I hate this for Winter. I hate that she’s here and scared and the person who should be comforting her is a complete loser of a parent. And I hate most that she blames herself for this nightmare that she had no hand in creating, but is forced to live with.
His eyes shift to the side and he mumbles, “She took a fall.”
“How? From where?” Winter presses.
His eyes lift for a moment before they drop again. “She was upset. Worried about all the money your stitches were gonna cost us.”
“I already told you it won’t cost anything. What happened?”
“Don’t you raise your voice at me, girl.”
Winter’s back expands on a deep inhale, and she pinches the bridge of her nose. “Please explain what happened. Is Mom gonna be okay?”
“She went outside, needed some fresh air after all the drama you caused today. Winding everyone up. Only thinking ’bout what you want.” He rubs at his jaw. “I been tellin’ her to stay away from the railing, but she didn’t listen.”
I’ve only seen the front of Winter’s place from the water, but it’s high up on a steep incline.
Winter’s knees wobble, and she clamps a hand over her mouth. “No.”
His eyes dart away again. “The railing gave out.”
Her body goes rigid. “You’re a fucking liar!” I rush forward and grab her around the waist before she can launch herself at him. “Let me go!” She tries to pry my hands free, shouting at her dad. “You did this! You put her here.”
Her dad holds his hand up like he’s fending her off, like he’s afraid. And maybe he is. He sneers and glares at me. “Be careful with this one. She gets like this. Bad temper. Lashes out. Causes her mom a lot of stress.”
“Seems like maybe she has a right to lash out where you’re concerned,” I snap.
Winter’s nails dig into my arms, but she stops struggling, and her voice is a broken whisper. “What did you do?” she asks him again.
“Come on, let’s go for a walk.” I guide her out of the waiting room. There’s a stairwell across the hall. I push through it, the door closing with a quiet snick.
“He did this. He did this to her. I know it. I know he did.” She slides down the wall, hands shaking, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I left her alone with him, and now she’s in the hospital, BJ. I can’t ever get out. I can’t ever have anything good. He just takes it all away.” She sucks in gasping breath after gasping breath.
My cousin Lavender used to have panic attacks when she was younger. And sometimes my roommate Kody did too, especially around exam time. He had strategies to deal with them, and I search my mind for a way to help calm Winter. But all I remember is Kody doing breathing exercises, or naming the things he could see.