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Her heart sank as she closed her eyes. “No, I’m having trouble locating him. I’m on my way to the hospital now. There was an accident on the course, and some of the runners had to be transported. Go back to our house, and I’ll call you once I find him.”
“Okay, we’re going to go get some lunch. Just give me a call.”
“I will, Otto. Kiss my girls for me.”
“Will do.” They hung up, and she stared out the window at the passing Charles River. A crew team of eight glided down the river. In six months, the largest three-day regatta in the world would come to town, bringing thousands of people with it. The event was fun, and something she and Rafe looked forward to attending every year, and every year, she’d told her husband she wanted to learn how to row. He’d been a rower in college and often joked that he and his best friend, Kiran, were going to put a team together and compete in the “old man” bracket. Maybe this year they would.
Officer DeMarco pulled into the emergency part of the hospital and turned off his siren, but he left his lights flashing. He helped Nadia from the car and guided her into the hospital, where chaos reigned. The waiting room was wall to wall with people, talking over each other, some crying, others pacing. Everyone wanted or needed help.
DeMarco spoke briefly to a woman in flower-printed scrubs, and then the double doors opened. Behind those doors, the bedlam had peaked. Beeping came from all directions, with staff moving and colliding with others. People barked out orders, while some ran with machines toward rooms.
He directed Nadia to the nurses’ lounge. Luca poured her a cup of coffee and handed it to her, but she shook her head.
“Where’s my husband?”
“The nurse I spoke with when we came in, she’s locating him.”
Nadia paced in front of the door, hoping to catch a glimpse of Rafe. She looked at his location and noticed he was, in fact, in the hospital. She tried calling him, but his phone went to voicemail again. A doctor walked in, and Nadia froze. Officer DeMarco stood and introduced himself and Nadia.
“Hi, I’m Dr. Costa. May I see a picture of your husband?”
Nadia switched screens on her phone and showed him the most recent photo of Rafe. Dr. Costa looked quickly. Far too quickly for Nadia’s liking.
“Please, come with me.”
She followed him out of the room and looked over her shoulder at Luca. For some odd reason, she wanted him with her. He took up the rear, almost as if he knew he’d have to catch her.
“How’s Rafe?”
“Rafe,” Dr. Costa muttered. “Do you have family in the waiting room?” She shook her head as he led her down the hall and into a small room that fit no more than three or four people.
Before he had a chance to say anything, she knew.
“He’s hurt badly, isn’t he?”
There wasn’t a nod or a shake of his head, but the answer was in his eyes.
“How badly?”
Dr. Costa closed the door behind them and motioned for her to take a seat. She refused.
“I don’t know everything that happened earlier; what I do know is Rafe suffered severe trauma to his head and neck. Despite the quick efforts of bystanders and the paramedics, we were unable to save him.”
Nadia didn’t hear him correctly.
Surely, he hadn’t . . .
But he had.
“Wh-what?”
“I’m very sorry to tell you, but your husband is brain dead.”
Nadia shook her head. “No. No. He was running and ...” She paced the small room. “He’s healthy and he’s running.” Tears streamed down her cheeks, wetting her shirt. “He’s not ...” She couldn’t bring herself to say the word. She refused.
He saved that woman’s life.
“I’m very sorry for your loss.” Dr. Costa reached out and touched her elbow.
