*
SHE didn’t succeed in holding up the eye weights. She awakened at around noon, ravenous. Dylan stayed with her while she ate a meal of chicken noodle soup and a grilled cheese sandwich. She was so starved, that sandwich was the best thing she’d ever eaten in her whole life. She was glad to see some of the stark worry leave Dylan’s face as he watched her demolish her simple meal. Afterward, a Dr. Sheldrake examined her and declared that she showed no overt signs of neurological damage. She explained that more testing was required, however, and she’d ordered an MRI for later that afternoon.
“When will I be finished? I have somewhere I need to be tonight,” she told the doctor as she completed her examination. The doctor’s brow furrowed and she glanced at Dylan.
“I’m afraid you won’t be going anywhere tonight, Alice. You’ll be with us at least until Monday morning, maybe longer, depending on your test results. You took quite a blow to the head. We want to make sure there’s no serious damage to your brain.”
Alice looked over at Dylan, panic sweeping through her. “But my kids! It’s the last night of camp. They’re giving out the team trophy tonight. If I don’t see them tonight, they’ll be gone . . .” She faded off because her voice had grown shaky at the mere idea.
“I’m sorry, baby, but you heard the doctor.”
“But—”
“There’s no but about it,” Dylan said more firmly this time, but there was compassion in his dark eyes. The doctor murmured some platitudes and medical facts about brain injuries, which Alice ignored, and left the room.
She sagged back on her pillows, desolate. She couldn’t believe it. After all she’d experienced at that camp—all the effort, anxiety, risk, and triumph—and she was going to miss the most important day. The Red Team had such a good chance at winning the Team Championship trophy, and she had so many things she wanted to tell her kids before they left. She might never see them again. She wanted to cry. God, she despised Sebastian Kehoe for a lot of reasons, but this particular robbery from her life had to be right up there at the top of the list.
“Can my kids maybe come see me before they go home tomorrow?” she asked Dylan, her voice cracking.
He looked a little slain. “I don’t think you realize what you’ve been through.”
“I have a concussion and some cuts and bruises! You said so yourself.”
He inhaled and closed his eyes. Suddenly he stood and walked away.
“Dylan?”
“I’ll be right back.”
He returned a minute later, carrying a hand mirror. He looked very solemn as he handed it to her. Alice grasped the handle dubiously with a bandaged hand. She held it up to reflect her face.
Her lungs froze. She stared in disbelief for several seconds before she handed the mirror back to Dylan wordlessly. He set it down on the bedside table. Tears swelled in her eyes in the silence that followed.
“The police want to speak with you, and so does the FBI,” Dylan said quietly. “Dr. Sheldrake wouldn’t let them in to talk to you until after she’d completed her examination and gave the okay. I seriously doubt that she’s going to allow a bunch of teenagers in here. The only reason I’m allowed in is because . . . well, I wouldn’t take no for an answer, number one. I’m guessing Durand’s donation for the new children’s wing here at the hospital probably helped my cause some,” he added dryly under his breath. “But the real reason I think Sheldrake made an exception in my case is that you kept saying my name over and over when they brought you in. I was the only thing that quieted you, so I guess she saw my worth. But she’s not going to okay a roomful of kids.”
Alice didn’t argue. Her mind had changed in an instant when she looked in the mirror. The last thing she wanted was for them to see her like this. Her face was a bruised, bloody mess after slamming into that stonewall. She looked like a bandaged ghoul.
“Are you sure none of the damage is permanent?” she asked shakily, ashamed of her vanity at a moment like this.
“Yes,” Dylan assured, touching her shoulder. “Don’t worry about that. It’ll take a while for the abrasions to heal and the bruises to fade, but it’s surface damage. No bones were broken, thank God. They don’t think there’ll be any serious scarring.” He stroked her. His warmth made one of the tears spill out of her eye. “I’m sorry for breaking it to you like that, but I thought you should understand.”