conversation I’d had with our dad in more years than I could count. Maybe ever.
I could see that his visit had exhausted Harper, and she quickly drifted off to sleep. I welcomed the solitude and settled back in the comfortable chair, tucking my feet beneath me. My head swam with gratitude for the turnaround our father had made. His steps toward making restitution showed his determination to carve a new path. Knowing and loving him, I was convinced he was sincere and hoped he would pull through, no matter what the future held.
Seeing that Harper was resting comfortably, I left the hospital around nine. Lucas agreed to come get me. Before I headed back, Dr. Carroll found me and said Harper was talking less and seemed to tire even more quickly in the last couple of days. I wasn’t sure what that meant and was too afraid to ask. Lucas and Chantelle were talking to Dad when I entered the apartment. They were happy, animated, chatting away. They greeted me warmly when I arrived.
“Did you pick up dinner at the hospital?” Chantelle asked.
I nodded. By the time I’d gone down to the cafeteria, the choices were few. I’d ended up with an apple and a cup of lukewarm vegetable soup. It was plenty.
“How’s Harper?”
“Sleeping.”
The call came in the middle of the night. It must have been around two. I didn’t bother to check the time when I reached for my phone, noticing only that it was the hospital.
“Yes,” I said, instantly alert.
Because Dad was sleeping in the spare room, I was on the sofa. As if aware a call in the middle of the night wouldn’t be good news, both Lucas and Chantelle came out of their bedroom.
Chantelle tied the sash around her silk robe and Lucas stood bare-chested in flannel bottoms, waiting, listening, their eyes steady on me, waiting.
My eyes held theirs as I listened, gasped, and covered my mouth, holding back the confusion and fear.
“I was with her only a few hours ago,” I argued. What could possibly have happened to change everything so quickly?
The nurse made no sense. Her words were plain enough, but I couldn’t take in what she was saying.
“Yes…thank you for letting us know.” I ended the call.
Dad stood in the doorway leading to the spare bedroom. “Willa,” he said, “what’s happened?”
It took me a moment to answer as I mentally reviewed the short conversation. “When I left, the nurse told me Harper was stable and resting comfortably.”
“That’s what you said earlier,” Dad reminded me.
“She’s being moved to ICU.”
“What?” Lucas asked, finding it as hard to assimilate as I had.
With no time to lose, I grabbed my jeans.
“You’re going to the hospital?” Dad asked. “Now?”
Nodding, I shoved my legs into my pants as quickly as my body could move. “Harper asked that I come right away.”
“I’m going with you,” Dad insisted.
I was in a hurry. “Then I suggest you get a move on, because I’m not waiting for you.”
“I’m coming, too,” Lucas added, racing back to his room.
“I’ll drive,” Chantelle offered.
Twenty minutes later, we rushed through the hospital doors. All these weeks, I’d held on to the hope that my beautiful, vivacious sister would recover. Reality hit me in the face as we headed to the intensive care floor. The doors swung open and I paused, breathless and afraid of what awaited me on the other side.
CHAPTER 27
Willa
Harper was in the ICU for a week. All we could do was wait and watch. Dad was with me, Lucas and Chantelle, too. We took turns going in and spending time at her bedside, although she was mostly asleep.
I heard from Sean every day. I didn’t answer his phone calls or listen to his messages, and so he resorted to texting me. I didn’t want to read them, but I couldn’t resist. He felt bad about our last conversation. He was sorry. He hated that he wasn’t with me. He apologized repeatedly. I didn’t answer. My decision had been made. All I knew was that Sean was in Chicago, finishing up the assignment with some guy named Doug.
It wasn’t like I missed him. It’d been so long since Sean had been part of my daily life that he felt like someone I used to know. When I thought about him, I sometimes forgot what he looked like. He had his priorities and I had mine and they were vastly different.
On the eighth day after Harper had been taken to Intensive Care, Dad and