could and felt he was more or less doing all right.
The plane had landed at a little after one o’clock, and another ambulance was dispatched and sent screaming through the streets, with absolutely no cares whom it woke in the process.
Cormac had watched as they’d jumped out the back, running. The icebox was so small, so inconsequential looking. It looked like nothing, even as it contained the whole world.
How amazing. And also the sheer luck: the tissue matching, the exactness of the match. He watched as they dashed in, said a wee prayer. Wondered, briefly, about the person who had sacrificed his life to give it, and to think how very, very lucky they were. Or should be.
LISSA GAVE UP at six. It was light. She closed her heavy, crusty eyes, opened them again, and thought at least she could get in first in the shower, wash it all away. That was one good thing about the nurses’ accommodations: it was triumphantly overheated, which meant almost limitless amounts of hot water, as long as you didn’t mind the low water pressure that made it dribble.
She stood under the shower, hair tied up, for as long as she could. She probably should have turned it to cold to wake herself up, but she couldn’t bear it. Her whole body hung down. She was weary and bedraggled and grimy to her bones, even as she stood in the shower, and was absolutely dreading the case meeting, whatever Kim-Ange said.
Chapter 12
The next week was awful for Lissa. She received a written warning, but more than that, she could see people pointing and talking about her. The young doctor had apparently been furious.
She tried to bury herself in her work and going out with friends. But she couldn’t sleep. Not at all. Every time she lay down, she saw that young boy’s beautiful face bleeding out. She heard herself screaming at him, saw the ambulance lights flash against the wet pavement. She called Ezra, but he wasn’t answering anyone. She couldn’t blame him.
During her years in A&E, she’d become hardened to practically anything. But when it was someone you knew: that was different. She got crankier and more careless, was so exhausted she was in tears half the time; not even Kim-Ange could cheer her up, even when she dated a man who liked to go to conventions dressed as a rhinoceros and wanted to know whether Kim-Ange had ever considered doing the same and whether she would like to.
Lissa felt sick, but that was nothing new these days. Beyond not sleeping well at all, she felt her heart race at the smallest thing. She wasn’t doing well at work either; she could tell. Her regulars had all noticed and remarked upon it, missing her normal cheery demeanor.
But the spark had gone out of her. She was terrified of everything now: loud noises, even the ambulance sirens she heard every five minutes going in and out of hospitals; sudden movements. It felt like her heart was bursting out of her chest; every time she tried to get some rest, she was bolt upright again, in agony. She tried sleeping pills, but they made her feel worse, foggy and disconnected, and she was scared she’d be asked to drive the car while taking them.
Kai’s funeral was exactly what Lissa had feared: a massive community outburst of misery and sadness and rage. His entire school, his church, and the whole of his housing development, it seemed, turned up to pay their respects, singing and crying, spilling out of the large church and onto the street. It was a paroxysm of agony and grief, even as his mother tried to stay dignified and the pastor tried to calm the anger obvious in the crowd at the terrible waste. Ezra didn’t even look at her.
At the church she linked arms with Kim-Ange, whose large presence was always a comfort. Today Kim-Ange’s hair was bright burgundy, but thankfully she was wearing black rather than the orange and purple she favored. Okay, it was a fuzzy-wuzzy coat that made her look like an enormous black bear, but Lissa found it comforting nevertheless and leaned in as they approached the incredibly busy church. You could hear the hubbub a mile away. Traffic had stopped. People were standing crying in the street.
They found a tiny spot on a pew. Nobody ever liked to budge up to Kim-Ange. This bothered Kim-Ange not a bit, and she scooched her sizable bottom along the pew