“So you say,” the captain said, catching up, “but you’re also the reason he’s in here.”
It was all I could do not to punch the wall. “I amnotthe reason he’s in here.”
“Either way,” the captain said, “they’ve only let in his parents and sisters.” Then he remembered: “And his girlfriend.”
I froze in my tracks. I turned. “Girlfriend? What girlfriend?”
The captain looked over my shoulder to spot her.
“The rookie doesn’t have a girlfriend,” I said. Other than me.
The captain spotted a girl standing by the swinging doors of the ICU. He nodded at her. “His girlfriend might disagree.”
“That is not his girlfriend.”
“Close enough. Word is, they’re almost engaged.”
It had to be Amy. Perfectly nice, nothing-wrong-with-her Amy. The very image of clean, ironed femininity. She was wearing a pink tank top and khaki shorts.
I hated her on sight.
“Amy?” I said, stepping closer.
She looked up, but she didn’t know me. Of course. What did she even see in that moment? Some grimy, sooty, filthy, sweaty female in a firefighter’s uniform. The sight of me seemed to shock her a little.
I could tell she had no interest in talking to me. I seemed like nobody to her.
To everybody in the room, actually.
“I thought you moved to California,” I said, bewildered by this turn of events.
She looked around, like,Who is this?“I’m home on vacation.”
“Why are you here?”
In the second that followed, the whole room, including me, wondered if I had the right to ask her that question. But then she answered it anyway. “Colleen called me.”
It felt so weirdly disloyal of Colleen. She knew Owen was with Christabel now—even if Christabel didn’t exist. And even if nobody in this room seemed to recognize her without her poofy hair and hanky dress.
It pinched my heart to remember that night.
I turned back to the captain. “I need to see him.”
“You can’t.”
But I did need to see him. Who cared about hospital rules?
I moved toward the ICU doors, but then I felt the captain’s hand clamp my arm.
I’ll tell you something. I’m strong, but the captain is stronger. No way was I getting out of that grip.
Now I was right next to ex-girlfriend Amy, close enough to confirm that she was exactly as garden-variety as the rookie had claimed, and the whole crowd was craning to see what would happen next.
I didn’t know what would happen next.
I couldn’t make sense of things. The whole situation felt like a dream—or more like a nightmare. Nothing felt real. Keys jangled. Voices murmured. The ex-girlfriend stared at me like I’d escaped from the loony bin.
Only a few things were clear:
