Page 93 of Protecting You
Not exactly her strong suit, but she’d been getting her share of practice the last couple of days.
An older woman and a girl who looked eight or nine joined her at the elevator doors just as they swished open. The three of them stepped inside, and the girl pressed the button for the second floor. She looked at Alyssa.
She smiled at the child. “That’s where I’m going too.”
Alyssa’s palms were sweaty, her pulse thumping. Maybe she shouldn’t do this. She could take the elevator right back down, and Callan would never know.
Did everybody second-guess themselves like she did? Probably not. Most people knew how to behave in situations involving humans. She’d always been better with computers and machines and books.
Sheesh. She’d walked into the lair of a terrorist, but she was afraid to visit her friend when his father was in the hospital?
If she sensed that she was in the way or that he didn’t want her there, then she’d leave. It seemed better to offer the support and be turned down than not to offer it at all. At least this way, Callan would know she cared, that he wasn’t alone.
“He might not be okay.” The little girl’s gaze had been on the floor when she said the words, but then she looked up at the woman Alyssa assumed was her grandmother. The child had medium-brown hair that hung halfway down her back and big brown eyes.
She reminded her of someone, but Alyssa couldn’t put her finger on who.
“People die sometimes,” the girl added.
The woman was short, maybe five one or two. She bent to meet the girl’s eyes. “Sometimes, people recover. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but what happened today was a good thing. It could have been worse.”
“That’s true. He hasn’t died yet.” The girl’s expression was solemn, as if she’d seen more of the bad than the good in her short life. As if death were as familiar as Christmas.
Alyssa’s heart broke, and she lifted a prayer for her and whoever it was she loved who’d ended up in the hospital.
She added another prayer for Callan’s father and his family.
The elevator car stopped, and the doors opened.
Alyssa let the others exit the elevator first. They hadn’t gone far when the child stopped halfway to the nurses station.
A tall man talking to a much shorter woman must’ve heard them approaching because he turned.
Oh. It was Callan.
Alyssa stepped off the elevator and was lifting her hand to greet him when he dropped to his haunches. “Hey, sweetheart.”
The girl took a few steps in his direction. “Hi, Daddy.”
Daddy?
He opened his arms, but she didn’t rush into them. She inched forward tentatively, as if she feared he’d rescind the offer.
Callan closed the distance and scooped her off her feet, hugging her to his chest.
The little girl’s shoulders shook, and he patted her back. “It’s okay, sweetie. Papi’s okay.”
Her arms went around Callan’s neck, and he closed his eyes and breathed her in as if she were his sun and moon and stars.
The older woman—she must be Callan’s mother—touched his arm.
He smiled at her, but his smile turned tight at the corners when he saw Alyssa.
She should’ve turned around and jumped right back on the elevator. She should’ve run.
He looked at her a second too long before he greeted his mom with a side hug—not letting up on his daughter at all.
Hisdaughter.
