bones. The waiting room was empty except for an old man asleep on a couch. He was wrapped in about three dozen blankets and a plump pillow. She found herself fixated on those blankets, wishing for something warm to wrap around her.
Not a blanket to envelop her.
A pair of arms.
Not a pillow under her head.
A strong, rocklike shoulder.
She’d been here before—not here, not in this hospital. All she could think when she took in the institutional furnishings, the flickering fluorescent lights overhead, the overwhelming scent of citrus cleaner, was another hospital. The hospital where a doctor had come out and hemmed and hawed and finally told her that Mom and Dad were gone.
In one instant, the world she’d known—comfortable, secure, a future ahead of her— went poof. She’d gone from being—
Admit it, Mallory. You were a spoiled brat who had no clue how much you depended on your parents.
She hadn’t been all alone then.
Katelyn had been with her.
Mallory swallowed the sob pent up in her chest. If it came out, if she started crying, she’d lose it. She’d cry for hours or days or a lifetime, and she couldn’t do that. She had to be strong. She had to think and concentrate on what the doctor said.
If the doctor ever came back out.
What if she comes back out and tells you Katelyn’s gone?
Mallory was still trying to wrap her head around the little she knew. One minute she’d been hanging the new shipment of holiday dresses on the rack, running her steamer over them to remove the creases and folds, and the next, some stranger on a phone was telling her...
Accident, fire, medical evacuation by helicopter to a burn unit halfway across the state.
And here...after a two-hour drive through twisty Georgia roads she didn’t know, to find the right hospital in a city full of hospitals...
Down the hall came loud laughter. The corridor was full to bursting with a huge family, tumbling over one another like a box full of rambunctious puppies, more like a family reunion than a crisis. They’d had good news, she guessed. That or they were trying to put the horror of the moment out of their minds.
I should have never let Katelyn talk me into letting her skip her senior year and go on to college in Waverly. I should have insisted she choose a college closer to home. I should have found the money to pay for the dorm, not that firetrap of a house. It’s my fault—I pushed for that resident’s exemption for her, just to save money, and I shouldn’t have.
Mallory’s stomach rumbled. It confounded her how she could still be hungry when her sister might be dying behind those double doors up the hall.
Another sob fought its way past her hammering heart.
You might have all the time in the world to eat yet. If she tells you that Katelyn’s gone.
The couch groaned as the old man turned on his side, burrowing deeper into his nest of blankets. For a moment, Mallory found herself wondering about his story. What calamity had brought him to this place?
Down the hall, the crowd grew still louder, as one family member ratcheted up the volume level to best another’s. More people had come in to join them, and Mallory could see them greeting one another with hugs and back slaps.
This time, she didn’t even have a scared twelve-year-old sitting beside her in the waiting room. When her parents had died, there’d been no one left of their family except a hard-of-hearing great aunt on her mother’s side they’d never met, and two states away at that. Mallory remembered begging the social worker from the department of family and children services to please, please not put Katelyn in foster care. She could do it—she could take care of her sister.
And see how you’ve screwed that up.
She pulled her winter coat around her, wincing as the lining ripped in the shoulder seam. The coat was three years old and much mended, but the whole lining needed replacing. She’d been planning on doing it this weekend, in fact...but she wouldn’t now.
She had more important things to worry about than a tear in a coat lining. She needed to be grateful she even had a coat.
Is Katelyn cold?
Katelyn hated the cold—it had always been a battle between them over the thermostat, Mallory turning it down to sixty-five to save money, Katelyn slipping behind her and jacking it up to seventy-two.
I’ll turn it up to eighty if you’ll just come back to me.
Another wail pressed up, out, like a caged animal testing its bars for weakness. She’d just managed to stifle it when she spotted a tall dark-haired guy, shoulders broad in a denim jacket, push through the crowd.
He smiled at the family as he passed, spoke for a few minutes, gestured with the hand holding a big brown paper shopping bag to the cooler he was pulling with his other hand.
He was about her age, and he had a kind smile, the guy did. It seemed so much warmer than the room’s chilly, sterile air. She wondered how he was connected to the family, wondered what he had in the cooler. With that many people, they’d need a lot of snacks and drinks. They looked as though they were camped out for the night.
Like me. They’re not going anywhere, like me.
He continued on from the crowd, closing the gap between himself and the door to the waiting room with a few easy strides of long denim-encased legs. Mallory realized with a start that he was coming to join her. He must be planning on leaving the cooler here for the family.
The door creaked open. “Hi...are you with the Blair family?” the man asked.
“Uh—yes.” She stared at him as he entered, trying to figure out if she knew him from somewhere. Had the stress of the day made her fail to recognize him?
No. She’d never forget his easy smile, the cleft in his chin, the bright blue eyes that seemed to bring a summer sky’s joy into the chilly waiting room. His dark hair was closely cropped, but it had grown out enough since his last haircut to have a cowlick right at the crest of his head. Mallory’s fingers itched to smooth it down.
“You’re Katelyn Blair’s...sister?”
“Yes.” She struggled to a standing position and extended a hand. She’d been sitting so long and so stiffly that her knees threatened to collapse on her. “I’m Mallory Blair. You must be one of Katelyn’s friends.”
He dropped the handle of the cooler and gripped her offered hand with a big strong hand of his own, one with long square-tipped fingers that swallowed hers. “Andrew Monroe...and, no, I don’t know your sister, exactly. I was one of the firefighters who was at the fire this morning. I wanted to see how she was doing.”
Tears stung her eyes at his thoughtfulness. She gripped his hand with both of hers and pumped it with a fierce energy. “Thank you, thank you—thank you so much for getting her out, for giving her a chance—”
She had to drop his hand to swipe at her eyes. “I’m
