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.“So did I.” John hung his jacket on the hook by the door.“Any calls?”“Brian called.”“What the hell did he want?”“Beats me.” Eddie raised the volume.“Pop.” John stepped in front of the screen.“He must’ve wanted something.”“Will you get the hell out of the way?” Eddie grumbled.“You’re blocking the puzzle.”John headed for the kitchen.It was pretty clear he wasn’t going to get anything more out of his father.Bailey trailed behind him, her tail wagging like a metronome.At least someone was glad to see him.He took some bread and ham from the fridge.Bailey looked up at him, her brown eyes wide and expectant.“I think you want this more than I do, girl.” He gave her a slice of ham and shoved the rest back in the refrigerator.His stomach was too tied up in knots to eat.He glanced at the answering machine.The message light was blinking.Probably the call from Brian, he thought.His father had the habit of leaving messages on the machine for days at a time.He pressed the play button and raised the sound.“This is Patricia Taylor from Princeton Medical Center.I’m calling for Mr.John Gallagher.Please call me at area code 609-497—” He grabbed a pencil and wrote down the number on the back of a Chinese food menu.His hand shook so hard he could barely read back the digits scribbled in the margin.Bile rose into his throat, and he forced it back down.Not again, he thought as he dialed the number.Not again.“This is John Gallagher,” he said when Patricia Taylor answered her line.“Is it about Alex Curry?”“Thank you for calling, Mr.Gallagher.” Her voice had the high gloss of the true medical professional.Sweat broke out on the back of his neck.“Ms.Curry has been in an accident.She—”He grunted as if someone had landed a punch to his gut, then doubled over from the waist.A cold buzz of terror filled his head.“Mr.Gallagher.” The woman’s voice penetrated his fear.“Listen to me, Mr.Gallagher.”“Y-yes.” His voice barely sounded human.“Ms.Curry is not seriously injured.Her car spun off the road, and she hit her head on the steering wheel.She’s bruised, a little headachy, but that’s it.We’re keeping her overnight as a precautionary measure.”“I’m on my way.”He threw the information in Eddie’s general direction, then grabbed his coat and left.The roads were worse than before.He traveled the entire seventy miles between Sea Gate and Princeton in four-wheel drive and, despite that, nearly spun out twice himself.The cold buzz inside his head grew to fill his chest as well.What the hell had she been doing in Princeton on a snowy night like this? The world was a dangerous place.In a fraction of a second, a person’s life could change forever.It was ten o’clock when he reached Princeton Medical Center.He took a parking ticket from the machine at the entrance to the covered lot, then found a spot on the second level.Two minutes later he was at the information desk in the lobby, demanding to know where Alex was.“Room 607,” a volunteer told him.She pointed to her left.“The elevator bank is right over there.”Heart pounding, he rode up to the sixth floor.The place didn’t seem like a hospital.The corridor was carpeted in a soothing blue tweed, and he couldn’t detect the stink of fear he associated with hospitals.A nurse sat in front of a computer, her skillful fingers skimming the keyboard as he walked by.A small kitchen had been installed between the nurses’ station and another corridor.A man and woman, both dressed in street clothes, talked quietly while they sipped something from plastic foam cups.Normal everyday actions meant to keep the demons at bay.She’s fine, he told himself over and over, a mantra against the fates.She’s fine she’s fine she’s fine—The door to Room 607 was slightly ajar.The room itself was dark, except for the dim glow of a nightlight plugged into the near wall.There hadn’t been a room for Libby and the boys.Only the sterile coldness of the morgue—“John!” She was sitting up in bed, a large bandage taped to her right temple.She wore a standard-issue hospital gown, and her skin was as pale as the white pillowcase.“The snow—you shouldn’t have—”He was at her side, kissing her face, her hands, trying to convince himself she was there and alive and not gone from him.Not gone at all.“John.” Her laugh was shaky and soft.“It looks worse than if is.Poor VW took the brunt of it.”“What the hell were you doing up here in a snowstorm?” He knew he sounded angry and harsh, but he couldn’t help himself.He could have lost her.“Are you nuts?”She cupped his face with her hands.He noticed thin scratches all the way up her bare forearms.Glass, he thought, shuddering.Jesus.“I thought I could beat the snow, but I was wrong.” She was looking at him as if she’d never seen him before, as if she were learning his face for the first time.He wondered if a painkiller was finally kicking in.“I want to.go home,” she said.Her words grew slower, more halting.“They put my.clothes in the closet.by the door.”“You can’t go home tonight,” he said, stroking her hair back from her forehead.“They want to keep you for observation.”“You’ll observe me,” she said, again with that soft and loopy laugh.He leaned back and looked at her [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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