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Chapter 10: Charlie

Jack Adams was getting harder and harder to pin down. And when I was able to locate him, his mind was everywhere but on the task at hand. We didn't live in a huge town, but that man was covering more square miles than everyone else in the county combined.

I wound up at the hospital because I couldn't find him at home, the bank, the hardware store, or my parents' house. It had been almost a week since Sarah's last surgery, and Jack was scrambling to keep things in order. Sarah was back in the hospital, recovering. I didn't know when they'd move her to the therapy center again since they had her in physical therapy at the hospital. I just knew it would happen because Jack had said it would.

I'd done my best to avoid the hospital since the day she'd woken up, but after the surgery to try to repair her spinal cord, Jack was practically living here again. I think it had more to do with Sarah's mental state than his need to be present for anything going on. He floated back and forth to check up on her and keep her company. I knew that was the case, and I still went looking for him like a fool.

I should have just picked a spot and waited for him to come to me.

I wound through the hospital's impossible walkways until I finally found Sarah's room. They had moved her for the umpteenth time. Every time I'd finally memorized the path from the parking lot to the elevators and through the corridors that all looked identical, the nurses moved her to a different room or facility altogether. And with each move came a more obscure location. I was beginning to believe there was a conspiracy to hide her from Jack and in turn, torture me when I went looking for him. Although, now that I thought about it, it might have been a ploy to distract Jack. He was getting more and more difficult, if the nurses' gossiping in the hallway were to be believed.

He was just wound a little tight, that was all. It was his little girl in that hospital bed-his firstborn. And with Miranda gone, well, he had even less help than he did before. But that was a topic I didn't dare broach with him or my little brother. The entire town was up in arms about Sarah's accident and Randi's disappearance, but I knew to leave well enough alone. My mom didn't raise a fool-gossip was better left to women.

Austin and I did all we could to help Jack out around Cross Acres. Sometimes it didn't feel like enough. Sometimes it felt like all I could do was watch from a distance as the family played out their misery in front of me. I knew that even with Sarah's improvements, Jack was not very happy. He had thought he was going to lose one daughter, and he ended up losing the other, instead. In an entirely different way. But the one time I'd been around to hear anyone ask Jack about Randi, the expression on his face said more than words ever could-she might as well have been dead. That distant look that washed over his eyes was the same kind that people got when reminiscing about a grandmother who had long since passed.

It was a strange set of circumstances and getting more bizarre every day. I took a deep breath when I got close to Sarah's door, bracing myself for whatever stood on the other side.

She sat alone. If I had to guess, I'd bet that her dad had been there but had already left for whatever reason. Personally, I couldn't imagine what it would be like to leave my little girl alone after all she'd been through. It must have killed him to do it every time he had to step foot out these doors.

Sarah sat with one leg propped up on the edge of the mattress and the other hanging off. I assumed that to be a good sign. There'd been so many days that were touch and go that just seeing her off all the machines was positive. She reached down and stuffed her small hands under her thigh, moving her leg to prop it up next to the other one. It took effort, and I stood mesmerized by the willpower and determination she must possess to get through this. I wanted to help, but I wasn't sure how. I just stood frozen in the doorway. She hadn't seen me, and I wondered how long I could wait before it became too awkward for me to make my presence known.

She lifted her hand to her face and dragged her fingers across her nose. While I couldn't see her expression, there was no denying the tears that streaked her cheeks. Maybe she had been crying the whole time I'd watched her. A tear clung to the tip of her nose while others dripped from her jaw, but she hadn't made a sound. She did her best to keep her emotions under control, even when she believed she was alone. Her shoulders rose with each deep breath she took in what I assumed to be an effort to calm down, but every inhalation made her shudder, and her entire body shook.

I wanted to say something-needed to-but I wasn't sure where to begin. Part of me felt ashamed. I shouldn't be witnessing this extremely private moment. The other part of me felt guilty. There wasn't anything I could do to ease her pain. Another small part of me wanted to comfort her. Even knowing that I couldn't stop the discomfort or the struggle she faced, there had to be something I could do that was better than lurking in the hallway.

When I finally stepped into the room, Sarah's lifted her head as I crossed the threshold. She immediately dragged her sleeve across her face, soaking up the tears with the arm of her cardigan. Her tiny hands furiously blotted a tissue beneath her lashes. I couldn't discern whether her expression was a scowl or something else akin to mildly distressed-but whatever it was, it obviously hurt. Sarah cleared her expression and returned to the blank slate I'd become accustomed to seeing.

I rapped my fist on the doorframe despite the fact that she'd seen me staring. "Can I come in?" I slid my hands into my pockets as I waited and tried to keep my posture relaxed, inviting. I didn't want her to think that I was just walking in on her most vulnerable moment because I could.

Sarah nodded ever so slightly. "Of course, please." There wasn't a rude bone in the girl's body. It didn't matter how much pain she was in; she'd keep up the Southern demeanor of small-town Texas because that's how she'd been raised.

I didn't miss the way she flinched when she touched the tissue she'd used on her eyes to the angry red scars on her face. It appeared incredibly painful and tight, but I didn't know her well enough to ask and needed to stop staring.

I tried not to read too deeply into the meek tone in which she'd invited me in. It didn't take a genius to see that now wasn't an opportune time for company, but there was a reason for my visit. And while it wasn't Sarah, I did need to find Jack.

"Sorry to barge in. I was just looking for your dad." I tried to appear properly chagrined for my intrusion. I couldn't shake the feeling that she just wanted to be left alone.

Sarah hid her face, deliberating avoiding eye contact. "He isn't here." Even her swallow appeared labored. "If you hurry, you may be able to catch him at home."

I nodded, but I didn't leave. My feet were bolted to the ground, and something compelled me to stay. My boots were rooted in place, preventing me from leaving or moving closer.

"Is that all?" Her words broke the spell. They cut through the tension that lingered between us like a knife, but instead of pushing me back, they drew me a little closer.

The only time I'd ever seen something so fragile and defeated had been an animal in a trap. Sarah appeared to have lost her will to fight, and I had an overwhelming urge to pull her into my arms. Something in me wanted to whisper into her ear that she'd be all right, that everything would be okay. But despite just how downtrodden she appeared or how heavy her shoulders seemed, I wasn't the person to bring her hope.

"Yeah." I didn't want it to be, but I sounded like an idiot to my own ears. My mind raced to find something to talk about, something to lift her spirits, but I stood there like a mute. I couldn't imagine what she thought of me. "Are you doing okay?" That was brilliant.

She didn't respond other than to swallow hard. The tears welled up again. I could see them getting caught in her throat as she tried to swallow them down, fight them back. She bit her bottom lip and lowered her head, closing her eyes. The tears beaded on her lashes and then streaked down her cheeks.

I might not be great at offering comfort or support, but I couldn't stand to see a woman cry. "Hey." That one word lifted my feet from where I stood, and I moved to sit next to her on the hospital bed.

I took a seat on the mattress not too far away from her but not close enough to make her uncomfortable, either. Sarah grabbed her thigh and shifted her leg toward her to create space for me.

She rolled her lips into her mouth and waved a hand in front of her face. "I'm not trying to make a scene. Daddy would be so embarrassed for you to see me this way." It wasn't a bid for pity.

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