“Toby,” Eli called to him.
“Dr. Davenport?” He laughed, patting his shoulder and trying to stand straight. When he came back up, he had the neck of the broken bottle in his hand. “You are a son of a bitch, you know that?” The elevator doors closed again. Eli shook his head when I tried to come closer and I pressed the button for Toby’s floor.
“You doctors can’t do shit.” He laughed again, and when Eli tried to hold him steady, he pushed him away. “All you did was make my daughter feel worse! And then you come in all proud and mighty like you are some fucking god, and stop trying to save her! Time of death, 8:43 PM. You know, that is all I hear now! Every goddamn day, that’s all I hear. Time of death, 8:43 PM. What gives you the right, huh? What gives you the right to say my daughter's dead!”
“Toby—”
“And you!” He cut him off, turning to me.
The moment he did, Eli stood right in front of me.
“You and your stupid, goddamn fucking painting! You weren’t helping anyone! Every time I look at it, I want to set it on fire. Why did you have to go draw it? You should have put an X over everyone’s face—”
The doors opened again, and he collapsed, shaking.
“Call an ambulance. He most likely has alcohol poisoning.” Eli was on his hands and knees.
I was already on the phone as Eli turned Toby’s body to the side to help him breathe, keeping his head elevated at the level of his knees. The fact that we lived so close to the hospital had never come as more of a relief than it did in that moment when the ambulance pulled up. I waited for them outside and held the door open as they, alongside Eli, helped Toby from the elevator onto a gurney.
“I’m going to go with them to the hospital, go ahead—”
“I’m coming too. I’ll be there soon. Go.”
Nodding, he kissed the side of my head before heading into the ambulance with them. When I saw them racing down the street, I finally allowed myself to take a deep breath and calm down.
Every time I look at it, I want to set it on fire. Why did you have to go draw it? His voice screamed in my mind as I walked down the street, gripping on to my bag. I hadn’t thought of how he would feel looking at a painting of his family when everyone in it was dead but him. It most likely didn’t bring him any of the same joy I hoped my work brought Meryl, Logan, and Eli.
Even though it had only been three days, it felt like forever since I had last entered the hospital. Maybe it was vanity, or maybe I just needed to remind myself that it was there, that I looked to my mural. It was somewhat old news now. Anyone who worked there would get used to it, and new people probably didn’t come to see my painting. A few kids sat in front of it while their parents were on the phone. They stuck their fingers up the painting of the grandfather’s nose.
At least they’re smiling, I thought, walking to the nurses station. “Can you let me know when I can see a Mr. Toby Wesley, please?”
“Gwen?”
Turning, I saw Ian come up to me, handing the chart to the nurse and smiling.
“Welcome. I thought you and Eli went on a getaway?”
“We came back today. Do you remember Toby Wesley? Molly’s father. He lives in our building, and we ran into him. He was really messed up. The ambulance should have just brought him here,” I said to him.
He frowned. “Eli came in with them?”
I nodded.
“We have a better chance of finding out at the ER. Follow me.” He pointed in that direction and I followed, vaguely remembering the highway crash that had led me there the first time. This time, thankfully, it was much tamer when we got there.
After walking us to the nurses station near the door of the area, Ian turned to the nearest nurse. “Has a Toby Wesley been checked in?”
“We have a record of him. He’s being prepped for emergency surgery.” He nodded, about to walk off, then stopped. “Dr. Davenport?”
“Just got an update that he is assisting.”
Ian frowned. “Call the chairwoman and let her know. I’ll go try and pull him out now—”
“We’ve got a doctor coming in now.” A nurse hung up the phone, rushing toward the door.
“Who?” Ian said, already grabbing gloves.
“They said it was Dr. Michaels,” the nurse said.
“Hannah?” He went toward the door as the paramedics brought in a woman who couldn’t have been Hannah. I took a step back as they wheeled her in. My heart started to race, and blood pumped to my ears.
“What happened?” Ian asked, looking into her eyes.
“She was out at lunch with a few other people from the clinic and fainted. She came to a little bit before demanding to be brought here.”
My eyes were glued to her stomach. Her clearly pregnant stomach.
It’s Sebastian’s. It’s Sebastian’s.
“She said the baby’s father was a doctor here.”
I wanted to collapse, but it made better sense to run…to run far, far away from all of this.
Eli