girl. Is she all right? What happened? She was fine this morning.”
“I’ll call you as soon as I find out what has happened. Can you call the school for me?”
“Yes, of course.” Her voice broke. “I will pray for her. She’s so small. She must be afraid. When you see her, tell her I love her. Tell her I’m praying for her.”
“I will,” he said, wondering if it was physically possible to repeat that Carmen loved her. He’d managed to avoid that particular word for years now. “I’ll call as soon as I know anything.”
“Yes and I’ll let you know what the school says.”
“Thank you.”
He hung up. What had happened? How on earth had Keira been hit by a car? She went over to the building’s coffee stand every morning, but she knew enough to use the crosswalk, didn’t she? They’d never talked about it. He’d just assumed...
Of course she knew, he told himself. She was twelve, practically thirteen. Kids were mature these days. They knew things and understood how the world worked. She would be fine. She always was. She took care of herself and—
He gripped the steering wheel harder, as he silently swore. Powerful, ugly guilt swamped him. He recognized the symptoms because he had a lot to be guilty about. His grandfather and now Keira. She was a kid and while he wanted to be there for her, he honest to God didn’t know what to do with her. So he made sure she had what she needed and did his best to avoid her. Carmen seemed to pick up the slack, but was that enough?
He’d meant to do more, had wanted to get to know her, only he hadn’t known how and he was still so angry with their father. Jerry’s betrayal haunted him like a taunting ghost and in the end it was easier to avoid anyone who looked the least bit like him. It was easier to avoid his half sister, to tell himself she was doing just fine in her room at the opposite end of the hall.
He pushed the thoughts away. They weren’t helpful right now. Later he could indulge in a little self-loathing but until then he had to focus on the problem at hand.
He arrived at the hospital in record time and found parking by the emergency entrance. At the information desk, he gave his name, Keira’s and said he was her brother. The receptionist entered the information into her computer.
“She’s here,” the woman said. “Room 47. Through those doors, then follow the signs. They’ve taken her to get some X-rays, so she might not be there.”
He pushed open one of the swinging double doors and was assaulted by the smells and sounds of a busy hospital. There were dozens of exam rooms, each filled with patients and families. Medical personnel hurried from place to place, patient charts in their hands as a calm voice requested Dr. Herron call extension five-two-three. Orderlies moved equipment and in the distance, someone was screaming.
Malcolm felt his gut tighten as he followed the signs to Keira’s room. He hoped to hell she hadn’t been left alone. She was too young, and she had to be terrified, assuming she was conscious. He came to a stop as he realized he didn’t know how badly she was injured.
Guilt later, he reminded himself and started walking again. He turned another corner and saw room numbers in the forties, then found forty-seven. The door was open and the bed was empty. He started to leave only to realize there was someone else in the room. Someone who—
The woman turned and stared at him. Her green eyes were wide, her face pale. Under any other circumstances, her expression of surprise would have been comical.
“Delaney? What are you doing here?”
“I could ask the same thing. Oh God! You’re the asshole brother? No. It’s you? Keira’s your sister?”
Half sister. Only he didn’t say that. “How do you know her?”
“She gets a hot chocolate every morning. We’re friends. I take my break and we talk.” She shook her head. “I don’t understand. You’re her brother? But you never talk to her. You walk into the building at the same time, but it’s like you’re a stranger. I never imagined you even knew her. What’s with that? She’s your sister and you don’t say goodbye.” Tears filled her eyes. “She’s a little girl. You’re supposed to say goodbye.”
He reached for her instinctively. Tears turned into sobs. He wrapped his arms around her and held her for a few seconds, only to feel something odd between them. Something moving.
He stepped back as a small black-and-white kitten crawled out of her tote and mewed.
Too much was happening at once, he thought, struggling to make sense of the input.
A nurse stuck her head in the room. “Delaney, hon, just wanted to let you know, she’s doing great. She’ll be back in a second.” She lowered her voice. “Nothing’s broken that we can see. She’s banged up pretty bad, but so far so good. There’s still her head to worry about, but we’ll get those tests done in a little bit.” She offered a sympathetic smile. “I thought you’d want to know.”
The woman left without acknowledging Malcolm. He turned to Delaney, who was petting the kitten and easing it back into her tote.
“Why is she telling you that? How come she knows you?”
Delaney sucked in a breath. “My dad was a cop. A couple of years ago he was shot and brought here. He was in the hospital over a month. I pretty much know everyone who works here.”
“Is your father all right?”
“Yeah. He’s in a wheelchair, but he’s doing fine. He got engaged a few months ago.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I’m having trouble concentrating. Everything happened so fast and there was no way to stop her. She just ran into the street.”
“Why?”
Delaney stared at him. “The kitten. She saw the kitten and didn’t want it to be run over.”
Instead she’d been hit by a car.
Before he could ask any more questions, Keira was wheeled back into the room. She looked impossibly small in the bed. Her skin was a pale contrast to angry scrapes and bruises. She wasn’t moving—he couldn’t even tell if she was breathing.
Guilt merged with panic. Shouldn’t someone do something?
Delaney took one of Keira’s hands. “Hey, you,” she whispered. “Your brother is here. You should have told me his name was Malcolm. Not knowing that made for a very awkward call.”
Keira’s eyes fluttered, then stayed closed.
“You’re going to be okay, Keira,” Delaney continued. “You’re going to be okay.”
They couldn’t know that for sure, he thought grimly. Why wasn’t she awake? Wasn’t a brain injury more significant than any broken bones?
A doctor walked in. She was about five-four, with gray hair and a kind expression. “You two are the siblings?” she asked.
Delaney smiled. “Hi, Dr. Newport. This is Malcolm. He’s Keira’s brother. I’m a friend.”
Dr. Newport
