Her voice was so wrecked I barely recognized it.
“Holly. Please come to St. Brigid’s. Fourth floor. Please. I know you hate us right now, and you have every right. But please come.”
“Is it Dale?” I asked. “Is he worse?”
On the other end of the line, my oldest friend began to sob.
CHAPTER 4: THE BOY IN ROOM 409
I went alone. Wyatt was still asleep, or pretending to be, and I didn’t want him walking into whatever was waiting on that fourth floor.
The kidney unit at St. Brigid’s had pale blue walls and the smell of disinfectant. Dale was pacing the hallway outside the nurses’ station. When he saw me, he stopped.
He was on his feet. Unhooked from anything. No hospital bracelet.
“Dale.” I looked him up and down. “Shouldn’t you be in a bed?”
He stared at me. Then something in his face crumpled.
“You thought it was me,” he said. “Oh God, Holly. You thought this whole time it was me.”
