Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 102620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
“Sierra,” my mother gasps, “too soon.” She wipes her eyes, then looks at my father and face-plants her head in the middle of his chest. “She gets that from you.”
“Of course she does.”
“Can I meet Caleb’s parents now?” I ask them, and they move aside. “This is really not how I wanted the first meeting to go with the two of you.” I try to sit up in the bed but that just is too much energy. “I had a dress picked out and everything.”
His mother comes forward first with a smile and tears, of course. “It’s so good to finally meet you,” she says, and I look over her shoulder at Jensen, who Caleb looks exactly like.
“Thank you for coming. You really didn’t have to.”
“Of course we did,” she refutes. “We’re practically family.” I look at her, then at Caleb, who looks up and avoids my eyes.
“He did tell me the two of you were moving in together,” my mother interjects.
“They already live together,” Jensen adds, and my father quickly looks at Caleb.
“This is fun,” I note, “but can we talk about me getting shot?”
“What do you remember?” Caleb asks, coming over to sit by the bed. His hand wraps around mine, bringing it to his lips.
“I remember my birth mother telling me about what her family did to her.” I look at him. “Then I remember opening the door to a man.”
“That was your uncle.” He fills me in on everything he knows, the silent sobs coming from my mother as she listens to the story as Jensen holds Hailey in his arms. His jaw is tighter with each passing second the story goes on. My mouth hangs open. “I don’t know how to tell you this next part,” he says softly, “but Fiona was shot.”
I sit up in bed, ignoring the way my arm burns. “What?”
“She’s going to be okay,” he assures me, and I shake my head and turn to the other side of him, tossing the blanket off me and moving to the edge of the bed.
“Baby”—he rushes to the other side—“can you relax for a minute?”
“No.” I shake my head. “You can either take me to her, or I will call the nurse and get her to take me.”
He exhales a heavy breath. “Let me get you a wheelchair.” He looks at my parents and then his. “Don’t let her get out of that bed.”
I want to fight him on it, but my body is going to give out mid-step if I try to fight it off and walk to her. “Is she okay?” I ask the four of them, and they all nod at me.
“She came out of surgery a while ago, but she hasn’t woken up,” my mother shares. “You look so much like her.”
The only thing I can do is nod at this, knowing it must be very hard for her to come face-to-face with my birth mother.
Caleb comes back a couple of minutes later with the black wheelchair in front of him. “The nurse is going to come in and disconnect you from all of your things,” he tells me, and a second later, the nurse comes in.
She takes the monitor off my finger and the two on my chest. She hangs the IV bag on top of the pole on the wheelchair. “She is good to go.” She nods at him and then at me as Caleb picks me up and places me in the wheelchair.
“Should we put a blanket on her legs?” he asks the nurse, who looks at me. “Is that a no?”
“If it will make you feel better,” I give in to him, “then sure.” He places the blanket over my legs.
“See, compromising already,” Jensen jokes, and my father chuckles as Caleb pushes me out of the room and into the dimly lit hallway.
“Are you guys coming?” I look over at my parents, who haven’t moved from their spot.
“We don’t want to intrude,” my mother says, standing tall and trying to be strong.
“Mom,” I retort, “you’re as much a part of this as I am.” She nods when I hold out my hand to her.
I hold my mother’s hand as Caleb wheels me down the hall two doors. He stops the chair and then walks in front of me, as he knocks and then opens the door. “She forced me to bring her.” He sticks his head into the room before the door is pulled open, and my birth father, Carl, is standing there. His eyes go to my parents as he nods at them, and I have a feeling they’ve met, and then they come to me.
“You’re up.” He smiles at me, his eyes filled with brand-new tears. “I was coming by to check on you in a couple of minutes.”
“How is she?” I look past him and toward the bed where Fiona lies.