Emily huffed. “A locomotive headed down a
steep incline would be an apt comparison.”
He nodded. “Not surprising.”
“Can we see her?” Derian asked.
Burns glanced at his watch. “For a minute or
two. The nurses will be busy getting vitals and labs in ten minutes, but…come
with me.”
When Derian moved to follow him, Emily
hesitated. Derian glanced back and held out her hand. “Come on, sis.”
Emily’s lips pressed together, the dancing
light in her eyes saying she was suppressing laughter. She took Derian’s hand,
hers smaller, soft and warm and firm. Without thinking, Derian threaded her
fingers through Emily’s. The fit was so natural, she was momentarily
disoriented. She wasn’t a hand-holder, but the flow of heat from Emily’s touch
steadied her. Filing that disconcerting thought away as an anomaly due to the
circumstances, she followed the medical resident down the hall to where he
slapped a big red button the size of a dinner plate on the wall. The foreboding
double metal doors with the tiny windows that blocked all view of what went on
inside swung open with a hiss. She almost expected a warning sign above it: Abandon All Hope…
Derian shuddered. She was more tired than
she’d thought.
Emily’s fingers tightened on hers. She was
pale, and her eyes had widened, as if she too sensed the despair radiating from
the sterile surroundings.
Her own discomfort fading in the face of
Emily’s, Derian leaned close, her mouth near Emily’s ear. She caught the
fragrance of coconut and vanilla. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” Emily said, her voice tight. “I’m
fine. Just a bad memory. Don’t worry.”
Derian wasn’t convinced. Emily looked shaken,
and her distress tugged at Derian, awakening a fierce desire to ease Emily’s
unhappiness that felt so right she didn’t bother to question it. “I’m right
here.”
Emily turned away from the too-bright lights
and righted herself in Derian’s intense, sympathetic gaze. Derian’s deep, sure
voice—her comforting words—shut out the hum of machines and jumble of sounds
that struck her like a tidal wave, threatening to pull her under. She wasn’t
used to being championed or protected by anyone and, for a few seconds, she
basked in the comfort of Derian’s unexpected chivalry. Feeling stronger, and
slightly embarrassed, she squeezed Derian’s hand and reluctantly loosened her
grip. “Thanks.”
Derian smiled, some of her tension easing
away. “No problem.”
The ICU was a long narrow room with a wide
central aisle. Beds occupied one wall, separated from one another by heavy
white curtains. Opposite them, a bustling nurses’ station with a high counter
that held beeping monitors, stacks of charts, and racks of test tubes bearing
blood samples was staffed by a handful of men and women. Emily averted her
gaze. Cold sweat trickled down between her shoulder blades, but she was steady
again. Over a decade since she’d been in a place like this, but the memories
were as fresh as yesterday. Her father and Pam in adjacent beds. Her mother
gone. She released Derian’s hand completely, afraid she would transmit too much
in that touch, afraid to lean too much on the strength Derian so casually
offered.