My phone rings. This time, I look before answering.
It’s her. Just seeing her name on the screen lifts my spirits and removes the giant boulder of worry that’s been sitting on my chest all day.
“Finley. How are you? How was class?” The staggering relief has left me a little lightheaded, my words emerging in a rush.
“Archer. I’m so sorry I couldn’t call you sooner. My phone was dead. The nurse brought me a charger and—”
My heart drops. “Wait. A nurse?”
“Yes.” Her voice cracks on the word. “Jacob’s in the hospital.”
ChapterTwenty-One
Finley
“I’m on my way.”
“You can’t—Archer. Don’t you have to be there for at least the next week? I can’t ask you to—”
“Baby, you’re more important than anything else. I’ll be on the next flight out.” He speaks to someone nearby, talking in a low voice, something about the airport and a car, and I take a full breath for the first time in twelve hours.
The darkness enveloping my vision since the patrol car pulled into the drive lightens just a bit.
He’s coming. He’ll be here. He’ll fix it like he fixed the radiator and got rid of the raccoon. Okay, so maybe he can’t fix this as easily as those things, but just listening to his voice gives me hope.
“Her brother is in the hospital.” He comes back on the line. “Is he okay? What happened?”
“Car accident. He’s going to be okay, they said, but he needed surgery because he broke his femur.”
“What hospital are you at?”
“Binghampton General.” I swallow past a dry throat. When was the last time I drank some water? I don’t even know. “The truck is totaled. The sheriff drove me here, but he left.”
“Is there anyone with you?”
I glance around the half-full waiting room. I’m sitting by myself in a corner, close to the outlet where I’ve plugged in my phone. “Not yet. Mindy should be here soon. She left the city a few hours ago.”
“What do you need? Is there anything that needs to be taken care of at the cottages?”
I try to think. “No. I called in one of our high school volunteers before I called you.”
“Nora is already searching for a flight. I’ll be there as soon as I can, okay?”
My hand grips the phone as if I can reach through it and hang on to him and have him hold me and tell me everything is going to be okay.
“Finley, I—I’ll see you soon.”
“Okay.”
I hang up the phone, and once the connection is severed, I immediately want to cry. He’s coming. But it’s not likely he’ll get a flight out tonight. It’s after five. I won’t see him until tomorrow morning, if I’m lucky.
I should call someone—Veronica, Reed, someone who can go over to the cottages and make sure everything is okay—I think we had some guests checking in today—but I can’t think of anything right now. All my motivation is zapped. I stare at my phone and slump down further on the padded plastic seat.
Jake was driving early in the morning. He hit an icy spot and spun out into a tree. He was going too fast. He was wearing his seat belt, but it’s an old truck with no airbag. The windshield shattered.
In addition to the broken leg, he might have a concussion or some kind of brain injury. Not to mention all of the bumps and bruises and scratches and I don’t even know what else. They did a test, and his blood alcohol level was over the legal limit, and he had traces of cannabis.
Marco said he thinks maybe Jake tried to sleep it off, but clearly, he didn’t sleep long enough. He was probably worried I would be mad if he was late or something. Remorse pounds at me for fighting with him yesterday.