Both my hands are crushed in theirs. Prue’s grasp is surprisingly strong…
The driver stops in front of the hospital entrance, but none of us move. They’re all staring at me expectantly.
“I’m not going to break, guys.”
“Yeah, yeah we know,” They all say over each other, turning embarrassed gazes away from me.
But they’re still not opening the doors, and the driver is giving me a strange look through the rearview mirror.
“Do you mind taking my chair out?” I ask him, and he hurries out of the vehicle. “Okay,” I say, exhaling slowly. “We’re going in. Prue and I will be going alone to see our dad. We’ll talk to him, and we’ll leave. Wait for us in the corridor, either with our siblings or by yourself.”
They don’t look happy about my request but nod anyway. They help me out of the car and into the chair before we go inside. We follow the directions Tham gave me to find his room, and five minutes later, as the elevator’s doors are opening, we see our three siblings sitting in a small alcove in front of a closed door.
All their faces snap towards us, and I struggle to keep my poker face intact.
They didn’t know. They’ve been lied to, just as we’ve been. The only upsetting detail is that they believed them. Let’s not make this weird.
I control my chair forward and from the corner of my eye, I see Prudence mentally struggling to follow, her hand reaching for the handle of the chair before stopping herself.
Tham stands from his chair a second before Amy and Naveen follow and we stop six feet away from them, leaving space between our two groups.
For a long minute, no one talks, the only sounds are the beeps coming from the closest rooms, nurses and doctors talking in hushed voices somewhere, codes being called from the speakers…
It feels weird seeing them again.
They… aged.
Which is normal. I’m guessing I also look older than I did ten years ago—although, a weird perk of Steinert disease is that I don’t have wrinkles. Like, at all. They look surprised by the wheelchair, though…
“I hope your flight was okay?” Tham asks casually, like it hasn’t been more than ten years since we last saw each other.
“It was fine. Although, an old woman may have drooled about a gallon on Prudence’s shoulder.” She groans and shudders next to me at the memory. They don’t take the hint of the joke though, not a smile warming their faces. I clear my throat. “He’s in there?” I ask, pointing towards the closest door.
“He is,” Tham says solemnly. “Mom’s in there too.”
“Good.”I guess.
Whatever I say and whatever dad says, she won’t take my side anyway.
With a last look towards our friends, Prue pushes me in front of the door. She knocks twice and doesn’t wait for an answer before we get inside.
Dad lays on the hospital bed, a lot of cables connecting him to different machines. His eyes are closed, but his breathing is steady. Mom is sitting on a chair next to him, reading whatever magazine was probably sitting around.
They must have paid a lot for this private room. The walls are covered with wood panels, and the furniture is minimalist but looks expensive, kind of like those weird designer stores.
Mom’s eyes lift from her magazine to us, and her whole face falls as she stands up abruptly from her seat, the thin magazine falling to the floor with a soft thump.
“Prue,” she croaks. “How good of you to come see us.”
I lift a brow, and Ifeelher tense behind me by the way the chair is slightly pulled back.
“I’m not here for you,” she grits out.
“Oh. Then, why have you come?”
Dad stirs, his face turning towards us, eyes still closed. Mom tenses.
“She’s here because I wanted to come,” I say calmly.
