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Around seven, they bring Remi his breakfast and with it, a sick-looking Evangeline and a hopeful Kiara.
Remi’s eyes crack open and widen when he sees his mother. His face contorts in pain before he remembers himself. The nurse lifts the bed, so Remi can sit partially upright, and pulls the table closer to him.
The nurse takes the lid off the tray. “Jello, apple juice, and chicken broth. If you can keep that down, we’ll bring you some solids.”
Remi takes one look at his breakfast and turns to his mom cowering behind her daughter. He gives her a warm smile. “Breakfast of champions.” His sweetness breaks the tension in the room. “Hi, Mom.”
Moving out of the way, I lift my hand, gesturing for her to come closer. She must be in agony. The desperation and adoration in her gaze tell me—despite the disease she’s fighting—the woman loves her children. I’m not perfect either, but I would die for my baby.
“Hi, Remington.” Even though her words are soft, I can hear the elation in them.
Clearing the blanket and pillow off the recliner, I turn to Evangeline. “Come and sit.”
Kiara gives me an appreciative smile, but I need no thanks. She’s a mother who misses her child. I’d never stand in between that.
“I’m going to freshen up,” I tell Remi before giving him a kiss on the cheek and leaving the room.
Five minutes later, Kiara follows, tears streaming down her face.
Alarm steals my breath. “Everything okay?”
She nods. “She couldn’t help herself. She took the bowl of broth and started feeding him. I know it’s silly and possibly a bit weird, but he let her and was gracious about it.”
Because that’s Remi—he sees the good in everyone, and that’s the only thing that matters. Does he want his mother to spoon-feed him? Probably not. But he saw the meaning behind the gesture—a mother needing to care for her child. And maybe he needed his mother’s love too.
My stomach grumbles. “Why don’t we go to the cafeteria and get some breakfast ourselves?”
“Sounds good,” she agrees.
Kiara and I grab our food and sit down, making small talk about the cafeteria’s food that doesn’t look half bad.
“Have you spoken to the police? Any leads on who was driving the car?” I hope Kiara has a little bit more information because I haven’t heard anything. If it was Remi’s father, is the threat over or did it escalate? These questions spin like a hurricane in my mind.
“Officer Taylor said they had a few leads and when she finds something concrete, we’ll be the first to know.”
I look up from slathering my bagel with cream cheese, chewing my lip, hesitating. “Do you think it could have been your father?”
“While nothing would surprise me anymore,” she grumbles, “I just don’t see it. Gram called my mom, said she had a right to know.” She wrinkles her nose as she takes the tomatoes off her egg sandwich. “If it was Jackson, I’d want to know too, so I can’t fault her for it.” She sighs. “From the shell-shocked look on my father’s face, it seemed like he didn’t have a clue.”
My hand flies to my stomach, where the bite of bagel I just ate expands and churns. It’s unnerving to know the person responsible is still at large. Are they planning on finishing what they started? “Then that means the person is still out there. We need security posted at Remi’s door.” I fish my phone out of my bag, ready to call Detective Gracyk.
Kiara stills my hand. “I don’t think calling is necessary.”
My eyes fly to her face in disbelief.
She nods toward the cafeteria entrance, where Officer Taylor and Detective Gracyk stand searching the area. Kiara wipes her face, and we both clear the table before meeting the women at the door.
Their faces are grim. “Kiara.” Taylor nods. “Miranda. Follow us.”
Kiara and I look at each other because the women are all business, almost as if we’re in some kind of trouble. Wordlessly, we make our way up to Remi’s room, where we find him and his mother having a pleasant conversation.
Evangeline looks more relaxed than she did before. Her skin isn’t as ashen, like Remi breathed some vitality back into her. They both look up at us with a smile when we enter, until they see the set of the officers’ faces.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but we need to speak with Remi, Kiara, and Mae alone.”
Panic colors Evangeline’s face, and she turns toward Kiara with questions in her eyes. “It’s okay, Mom. Just some police business,” she reassures before typing something on her phone. “I let Sandy know you’re coming out. She’s in the waiting room.”
Evangeline’s gaze dims, and she looks at her son with such sadness that the tentative stitch holding my heart together splits.
