The doctor nods and walks away.
I sink back into the chair, hands covering my face. “Oh my god.”
Koa stands. “I’m going to get coffee. You want anything?”
“No, thank you.”
He walks away, and I’m alone with the buzzing lights and the smell of the hospital.
But I’m not crying anymore.
Axel’s alive.
He’s going to be okay.
And Koa was there when I needed him.
That means something.
It means everything.
17
Koa
Ileave Lexi in the waiting room and head down the hallway toward the vending machines.
But I’m not looking for food.
I’m looking for Sandra.
She’s at the nurse’s station, typing something into a computer. Mid-forties, tired eyes, scrubs that have seen better days. I’ve known her for two years—ever since I brought in my first overdose case and slipped her three hundred dollars to keep it quiet.
“Sandra.”
She looks up, recognizes me immediately. Her face shifts—not quite a smile, but acknowledgment.
“Koa.” She glances around, lowers her voice. “What do you need?”
“The kid they just brought in. Axel Kane. Keep him out of the overflow ward. And out of the system.”
She winces. “I can’t—”
“Yes, you can.”
“He’s already in the system. They pumped his stomach. There’s paperwork. I can’t just—”
My jaw clenches. “How much?”
“It’s not about money this time. It’s too late. The doctor already filed the report.”
Fuck.
I kick the trash can beside the station. It clatters across the tile, loud enough that a few people turn to look.
Sandra steps closer, voice urgent. “I’m sorry. I would if I could, but—”
“Forget it.”
