might’ve been able to stop all of this sooner.”
The simple fact my dad just uttered the words “shit” and “ass” is proof that he’s feeling quite low right now. “I forgive you,” I choke out.
He takes in a deep breath and exhales just as heavily. “Thank you.”
I turn on the screen to look at my texts. Sure enough, there’s one from Unknown staring back at me when I press the messages icon. It reads:
Things are far from over, bitch…
“Do you have any idea of who this guy could be?” he asks when he sees my reaction to the text.
“No. I have absolutely no idea.”
“We’ll catch him, Dani. I promise.”
I nod, hoping against hope that he’s right.
“Hey, how’s Phoebe doing?”
“She’s adjusting. I took her to the station since her parents are gone for the next few days. She didn’t want to be home alone right now, which is understandable. Samson should be bringing her around in a little while,” he says with a tired smile.
I go quiet for a moment and glance down at the phone in my hand. “Did you find anything at the school that can help you get this guy?”
“We found that folder you mentioned, but the pictures were gone,” he explains. “But other than that, no.”
“Figures. I’ll give Unknown one thing: he’s pretty damn good at covering his tracks.”
“Yeah, that he is,” my dad agrees with a nod of his head. “But criminals tend to slip up. That’s one of our saving graces in law enforcement.”
I want to believe him, but find myself tipping over onto the side of doubt. “Do you think they have coffee? I could use a little caffeine kick right about now.”
“You and me both,” he says. “I’ll see if I can scrounge up some for us.”
I lean back in the chair and rest my head on the wall behind me while watching him walk over to the nurse’s desk. After chatting with the nurse for a moment, he turns to me and gives a thumbs up, clearly scoring us some coffee.
The emergency room doors slide open, drawing my gaze to them. I see Samson stroll in with Phoebe close behind. She looks like I feel…frazzled and completely out of it. When she sees me, I send her a little wave. She returns it and heads over to sit next to me.
“Any news on how he’s doing?” she asks. She fiddles with the latch on her purse, showing her distress.
“Not yet. I’d imagine he’s still in surgery.”
Phoebe exhales slowly before she speaks. “This is insane, Dani. Things like this aren’t supposed to happen in towns like ours.”
I reach over and take her hand. Squeezing gently, I say, “Hey, listen to me. We’re going to make it out of this, okay?”
“I hope so,” she replies, but her voice wavers.
“Got some good news,” my dad announces, approaching us with two cups of coffee in hand.
“Is it about Parker?” I ask with a hopeful smile.
“Indeed it is. While I was getting our coffee, I bumped into Dr. Davis, the surgeon working on Parker. After his long spout of medical jargon, he finally got to his point. Parker’s going to be fine. Surgery went well, and he’ll be ready for visitors in a few hours,” he explains, and smiles when he sees both of our faces light up.
The hours tick by as we wait for any news on when we can visit with Parker. I’ve grown tired of playing Angry Birds on my phone, and have moved on to other forms of distraction, trying hard not to allow any bad thoughts to enter my mind. I’ve probably walked around the emergency room a million times already.
“Mr. Reed can have visitors now,” a nurse finally tells us. We hurry over to the double doors leading to the rest of the hospital. “He’s in recovery on the second floor. Take the elevator down the hall and to the left.”
When we step off the elevator, Phoebe and I follow the signs to the recovery room. Our footsteps echo throughout the hall as we quickly move toward the door at the end of the corridor with the placard above it that reads: Recovery.
The door initially blocks our view of Parker when we push it open. Moving into the room, I see him off to my right, propped up in his bed. Monitors beep throughout the small space. I stammer while whispering his name as I see all the tubes running from the IV’s in his arm.
His eyes blink open and his