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We nod, and she hurries away, leaving us to stare at the door of Ryan’s private hospital room.

“Holy crap,” Brylee whispers, her eyes huge, her hand strangling mine.

“Yeah,” I agree, my brain firing on nothing.

Glass and chrome and muted beige carpets and nurses moving down the corridors silently, efficiently, ghosts on a mission. Machines beeping and whirring. Someone whispering in the room across from us.

The Heart and Vascular Institute, said the sign outside. It’s only now that I’m comprehending the words.

“You knew something was wrong,” Brylee says, turning to look up at me, her face white. “I think deep inside I knew it, too.”

I turn her so that I can wrap my arms around her for a quick hug. “You heard the nurse. He’ll be fine.”

“You don’t know that. She doesn’t know that. She only heard—” Her voice hitches.

“Hush. He’s fucking strong. He’ll be fine, Princess. Now let’s go visit him before someone throws us out.”

***

So many tubes. Most shocking is the breathing tube that goes into his mouth, delivering oxygen into his lungs. More tubes and cables snake under the covers which are pulled up to his neck. Machines and monitors bleep and blink at his side.

Hell. I take two steps back and my back hits the wall, but I barely feel any pain. I think I’m in shock.

I’m in fucking shock, and I’m not sure my legs can hold me.

Brylee lets go of my hand and approaches the bed. Her hand is shaking badly as she strokes Ryan’s blond hair off his brow.

“His skin is so cold,” she whispers.

“That’s in big part because of the low temperature we keep the air in here at the hospital,” a female voice says from the door we’ve left open coming in, and we both jump. “I’m his doctor, Dr. Jensen. Who are you?”

“Family,” I say automatically, while Brylee says, “Siblings.”

The doctor looks from her to me and back, her smile faltering. “I see.”

“What…?” Brylee sucks in a sharp breath. “What surgery did you perform?”

She walks inside and closes the door behind her, low heels clicking on the floor. “Open-heart surgery.”

I almost slide down to the floor, my vision graying for a moment. Jesus. “How did it go?” My voice is like rusty nails.

“Good.” She moves closer to the bed and checks the machines and tubes. “But of course we can’t know before the first—”

“—twenty-four hours,” I finish for her.

“Actually, the first few days, but the first hours after surgery are the most critical. As soon as he starts breathing on his own, we’ll be more certain he’s pulled through.”

Brylee makes a tiny sound of distress. “He’s not breathing…”

“On his own. That’s normal for now.” The doctor tilts her head to the side. “Who are you, really? Ryan has no siblings.”

“Cousins?” Brylee says, sounding unsure herself. She’s still staring at Ryan’s still form.

I’m having trouble looking away myself. I push off the wall and walk on trembling legs to his bedside. I put an arm around her.

“Are you really family? Do you know his father is right outside?”

Oh shit. Brylee is trembling against my side, and I’m not feeling that fucking steady, either. “We’re his…”


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