Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 90778 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90778 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
“I can’t,” I protest weakly, my voice barely above a whisper. “I have to go back to the hospital. My dad needs me.”
“Your mother told me to tell you that your dad is doing much better,” another voice says from the doorway. I look around to see Earl standing there, his arms crossed and his jaw tight. His presence is imposing, as always, but there’s a deep concern and anxiety in his eyes that makes me falter. “She also said he’s stable and getting the treatment he needs. The person who’s in danger right now is you, Raven.”
Anger flares despite my fatigue. “I don’t need you to tell me what to do,” I snap, turning my face away from him. The sharpness of my tone doesn’t mask the exhaustion behind it, and I hate how vulnerable it makes me feel.
“You’re staying here,” he says firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You need to let yourself heal.”
The doctor nods in agreement before turning to me. “He’s right. Pneumonia is no laughing matter, child. You must carefully take all medications I’m prescribing. He scribbles something on his pad and gives it to Earl before leaving.
Earl doesn’t move from the doorway, his eyes still fixed on me. There’s something unreadable in his expression, a mixture of frustration and worry.
I turn away from him and he crosses the room and sits on the edge of the bed. For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, he just watches me with an intensity that confuses me. Then, without warning, he leans down and wraps his arms around me. The gesture is unexpected, and for a moment, I stiffen, unsure of how to respond.
The warmth of his embrace seeps into me, melting the tension in my body. The exhaustion catches up to me all at once, and I let the tears I’ve been holding back finally fall.
“I’m scared,” I whisper against his chest, my voice cracking. “What if something happens to Dad?”
“Nothing’s going to happen,” he says softly, his voice a low rumble that vibrates against my cheek. “Your dad is strong, and so are you. I’m going to fly in a specialist tomorrow, but you have to promise to take care of yourself too.”
I nod eagerly. “Yes, I will. Help him, Earl. Help him.”
“I will,” he says quietly.
We stay like that for what feels like hours, the silence broken only by the sound of my ragged breathing. His arms tighten around me, grounding me and eventually, exhaustion wins, and I drift off, lulled by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
The nightmare comes sometime during the night.
I’m back at the hospital, but everything is wrong. The walls are on fire, the flames licking up towards the ceiling. Smoke fills the air, suffocating and blinding me. I see my dad’s bed engulfed in flames, the machines around him sparking and crackling. I try to reach him, but my legs feel like they’re moving through quicksand.
When I turn, Earl is there, but he’s too far away. His face is twisted in pain, and before I can call out to him, a deafening crash sounds as the floor beneath him gives way. He falls into the darkness, his outstretched hand disappearing into the void.
I wake with a start, screaming, my chest heaving and my face wet with tears. The room is dark, the only light coming from the faint glow of the bedside lamp. The terror of the dream is still clawing at me and I flail wildly. Before I can fully process where I am, I feel strong arms wrap around me, pulling me close. I can’t tell if they are real or part of the nightmare.
“It’s okay,” Earl’s voice murmurs in my ear, steady and reassuring. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”
I clutch at him desperately, my sobs shaking both of us. “Don’t leave,” I whisper, my voice breaking. “Please don’t leave.”
“I’m here and I’m not going anywhere,” he promises, holding me tighter. His warmth surrounds me, and for the first time in what feels like forever, I believe him. The fear and the nightmare fade into the background, replaced by the steady comfort and safety of his strong presence.
CHAPTER 42
EARL
She feels so small in my arms, so fragile, that I’m terrified I might break her just by holding on too tightly. But I can’t let go—not ever. Her body shakes as the last of her sobs fade into quiet sniffles, and when she finally relaxes against me, I settle her back into the bed and pull the soft blankets around her like a cocoon. She’s too weak to protest, her head lolling against my chest as I tuck her in.
Her hair is damp from sweat, sticking to her forehead, and I brush it back gently, my fingers trembling. Watching her fight this sickness has been unbearable. She’s been slipping in and out of restless sleep, her breaths labored and shallow, and I’ve been powerless to do anything but stay by her side. It’s a kind of helplessness I’ve never known before, and it’s shredding me from the inside out. I can’t take my eyes off her; every rise and fall of her chest feels like a victory and a warning all at once.