“We’re not done.” Alex holds my gaze and steps away, letting me be the one to go inside. Weird, I thought he’d want to be the one since Archie was his friend first.
The nurse shows me the door and tells me I have about ten minutes before the doctor comes in to check on him.
When I carefully push it open, I find my sister quietly talking to Archie. I want to close it and give them privacy, but one phrase catches my attention, and I can’t stop listening now.
“Iunderstandnow,” she whispers, leaning in close to his face. “And I want you to know that if you leave, I’m not staying. Call it childish, call it stupid. But you heard me—I am not staying.”
Dread settles in my stomach because I know what she’s talking about.
The next few days are pure chaos. People come and go. Archie’s friend and basically adopted sister Cherry came and stayed in the hotel next to the hospital. She tried forcing Leila to go take a shower at home, but the stubborn mule refused. She says that she’s scared to let him wake up without her. I talked to his surgeon, who turned out to be one of the best in the States, and he doesn’t have any hope. How this surgeon happened to be in this hospital with a freshly printed license to operate is another question I’ll be figuring out.
The more I come to his room, the more I agree with the doctor. I’m not a professional, but I can see him slowly deteriorating. His cheeks become more sunken, and the circles under his eyes darken. My sister took on the role of caretaker for her significant other at the age of twenty-four.
And I couldn’t be prouder of her.
As the days go by, people start visiting less, but it’s not for lack of trying. Cherry had to go back to Boston to manage the businesses he still owns. Justin and Kayla come to visit on the weekends since it’s about a good hour away from Little Hope. Archie’s artists from a few parlors on this coast came to visit afew times, and as far as I know, one of the artists from California is flying in this week.
Alex comes every other day to quietly sit in the corner. I know he and Leila talked, but I’m not sure how their situation got resolved—I know better than to get between siblings. Freya came twice, but since she’s become more pregnant, car rides have been making her sick. Our father drove our mother here a few times with her homemade meals for Leila. I think her presence hurt Leila the most because her doting almost drove her to the edge. The last thing Leila needs right now is pity. Even from her own mother.
By now, Leila has pretty much moved in. Nurses tried shooing her away at first, but then just accepted her as a permanent fixture in his room. They even bring her snacks and treat her with more and more respect. And pity.
She works from here too. Since that article about the military exposure, she’s getting more and more requests. Being a freelancer, she can choose what kind of jobs she takes. And so far, she has only taken those that she can research from this very room.
One day, I came to visit them and found Jake quietly sitting in the chair while Leila leaned her ginger head toward him with a quiet whisper. When they saw me, she shushed her voice, rushed to finish whatever she needed to say, and then Jake walked away with a silent nod of greeting.
When I asked what that was about, she only smiled mysteriously and said that he was sent on a secret mission. I just shrugged and let it go—they’re allowed to have secrets, even if I don’t like it.
Fine, hate it. I know about everything in my county.
I haven’t been here since yesterday because we had an emergency in town, but today I came to cheer my sis up.
“Knock-knock.” I acknowledge my presence, and she lifts her head from the laptop where she’s typing, her fingers fiercely sweeping over the keyboard as if it personally offended her. “I come baring gifts.” I lift the large to-go cup of her favorite coffee from Little Hope. It’s probably cold by now, but the gesture is what matters, or so they say.
“Thank you.” Her face stretches in a wide smile. “I could use some caffeine.”
“Thought so.” I walk toward the bed where she’s sitting at Archie’s feet, propped against the pillows, looking very comfy for a hospital bed, and pass her the drink.
She takes a sip, and her smile becomes wider.
“My life just got a lot better.” She sighs loudly and leans back on the pillow, her eyes closed. “Hospital coffee tastes like shit.”
“You could always go grab one outside. There’s a good coffee shop right down the street.”
Her face darkens as her brows pull together.
“You probablyshouldgo and get something from there. You look even paler than before. Even your freckles are paler. Wha-a-at?” I step closer to look at her nose. “In fact, that big freckle on the tip of your nose,” I point my finger at her face, “that you’re so proud of, is nearly gone.”
She rolls her eyes, but smiles. We’ve been teasing Leila about her freckles since she was little, and when she discovered that big ginger dot on the tip of her nose, she paraded it around the house, talking about how proud she was of creating such a big one. I think she was six then. Ever since, we constantly joke about it.
“Mew,” comes out of nowhere, and I can feel my eyes widening. “Mew.” Louder this time.
I glance at Leila, who sends me a conspiratorial smile.
“What the hell was that?”
“That’s Midnight.” Leila’s smile is so wide, it threatens to split her face in two.
“Who the hell is Midnight?”
