“Wake up, asshole. You have to wake up so you can tell me why. Because I shouldn’t be able to think a friend of mine was capable of that — I shouldn’t believe Quinn over you and your father. I barely know her — and you’re basically family. So you have to get up and explain it.”
I stare at Lance for a while, listening to the silence.
This is fucking stupid. He’s never waking up and he’ll never know I was here. Even if, by some miracle, he regains consciousness and remembers everything in perfect detail, he still probably won’t give me a good answer.
At least if Glenn and Travis had shown up, I could have learned something from them.
Through the hospital room’s open doorway, approaching footsteps echo. Someone knocks on the door, and then a nurse pokes her head inside.
“I thought I heard a visitor,” she says, smiling at me as she steps inside. “My name’s Gloria. Are you a friend?”
“Yeah.” I nod, forcing the anger from my expression. “For quite a while.”
“Oh,” she replies. “Are you from out of town?”
“No. Kinda. About forty minutes away.”
I could easily lie — it would be a nice excuse for why it took me this long to get out here — but I don’t want to. She seems friendly, and though her question hits me in the gut a little, I don’t think she meant to be judgmental. There’s a light in her eyes I don’t often see back at Walker.
“Well, I’m sure Mr. Prescott appreciates your visit.”
“Mr. Prescott?” How would he know I’m here?
“Lance,” she says, pointing.
Oh, of course. “Sorry, I thought you meant his father.”
Her grin breaks wider. “Oh, are you a friend of the family?”
“I am.”
Gloria nods, sobering as she lifts Lance’s head to fluff his pillow. “It must be so hard on them. To see him like this, I can’t even imagine.”
“No, it’s not easy.”
Noticing the bag of magazines, she looks inside, then rolls her eyes at me. “Very thoughtful of you,” she jokes.
I spin around so fast I nearly dizzy myself. I’m blushing. “I can throw those out. It was stupid.”
As I turn back to her, she holds out the bag for me to take. “It was nice of you, but the cleaning crew would’ve probably taken them. Now, if you wanted to bring a bottle of wine the next time you’re here, I could make sure it doesn’t go to waste.”
I chuckle. “You got it. Maybe some flowers or something? This place looks awful — no offense.”
“None taken,” Gloria replies. “There’s been cards and flowers and things, but they were from the congressman’s colleagues. The governor, some state senators — a handful of judges. But… no one’s actually visited yet.”
“What?” Her statement hits me hard. It shouldn’t surprise me that she’s put two and two together, and figured out that Lance Prescott is the son of Congressman Darren Prescott, but that’s not the issue. “What do you mean, no one?”
“I shouldn’t have said anything, but… Congressman Prescott was here when Lance was admitted, of course. But other than that, you’re it. It’s why I had to stop in and say hello.”
I don’t believe this.
“Darren hasn’t been back?”
She shakes her head, her lips curled up in a frown.
“No other relatives? No friends?” I ask, my pulse spiking.
“None that I’ve seen, or heard.”