Page 144 of Sparks Fly

I drove to the hospital with my hands shaking on the steering wheel, tears blurring the road, my heart pounding so hard it hurt.

Underneath the terror, underneath the image of Sawyer lying beneath bright operating lights behind closed doors, there was something else. Clarity.

I wasn’t split anymore. I wasn’t living two lives. Whatever happened next, Sawyer would never again be someone I erased when it mattered.

I parked crooked. I didn’t care. I ran. And for the first time in my life, I wasn’t afraid of being seen.

* * *

I don’t remember walking through the doors. One moment I was running across the parking lot, lungs burning, vision blurred with tears. The next moment I was inside the hospital, fluorescent lights glaring overhead, the air too cold, my heart beating so violently I could hear it in my ears.

I scanned the waiting room. Then I saw them. Benji stood up instantly. Vic followed a second later, their hand flying to their mouth. Another woman I vaguely recognized, one of Sawyer’s friends, rose from a chair nearby.

They all moved toward me. Benji reached me first. He wrapped his arms around me tightly, grounding me in place, and the moment he did the last piece of my composure shattered. I sobbed into his shoulder, the sound raw and uncontrollable.

“She’s okay,” he murmured again and again as he held me. “She’s okay, Addie. She’s in surgery, but she’s okay.”

Vic hugged me next, fierce and protective. “She’s going to be fine,” they said, even though their voice trembled. “She’s stubborn as hell. This was never going to take her out.”

I pulled back, wiping my face. “What happened?” I asked.

Vic exhaled slowly. “Some asshole ran the red. The bike went down hard when she tried to avoid the car,” they explained. “She landed wrong. It’s her shoulder. Something with the joint. They had to take her back pretty quickly to fix it. And she got stitches near her eye.”

My knees nearly buckled with relief.

“She’s pretty beat up,” Vic added. “But she’s going to be fine. Bruised and sore.”

“Really?” I asked through tears.

“Yes,” Benji said immediately.

I laughed through a sob. “She’s not critical?”

“No,” Vic said firmly. “She’s scared. We were all scared. But she’s okay.” The word barely felt real.

Time stretched strangely after that. Minutes folded into each other while we waited. I held Benji’s hand like I needed proof he was real. Vic paced. Someone handed us water I forgot to drink.

All I could think about was the last thing I had said to Sawyer and the way she had walked away. When the doctor finally appeared, the room shifted. He spoke calmly, professionally.

“The surgery went very well,” he said. “She dislocated her shoulder during the fall and sustained ligament damage. We repaired it surgically. She also received stitches near her right eye. Those are superficial. Her helmet prevented any head injury.”

My hands trembled.

“She’s going to recover fully,” he continued. “Physical therapy will be important, but she should be back on her feet quickly.”

A sob escaped me.

“Can we see her?” Vic asked.

“One person for now,” the doctor replied. “Until she’s out of recovery.”

They didn’t hesitate. Benji stepped back and Vic nodded toward me. “Go,” they said softly. “She asked for you before she went in.”

My legs felt unsteady as I followed the nurse down the hallway. The room was quiet.

Sawyer lay propped up in the hospital bed, her arm secured in a sling. Her face was pale, a small bandage near her eye standing out against her skin. Her lashes fluttered. She was awake.

I didn’t speak. I just crossed the room and sat carefully beside her.