Page 64 of Lying to the Boss

I need to get to the hospital.

Everything is a blur until I’m standing in front of the woman at the reception desk. Even then, my eyes are blurry and my brain isn’t quite working right. I can’t focus. Everything is foggy.

I already gave her Tage’s name, and she’s been typing on her computer for what feels like ten goddamn years. The tag on her shirt says her name is Betty and she’s worked here for twenty-nine years. Well, good for her. She should be able to type faster.

Finally, she says, “Mr. Briar is in surgery.”

Surgery. That’s a slight relief. Not by much, but at least he’s here. He’s alive.

“When can I see him?”

“There is a waiting room. The team will come out and speak to you when they can. You said your name is Lane Monroe?”

“Yes, my name is Lane Monroe. I designed your fucking waiting room for god sakes. My name is on the fucking plaque.” I gesture to the wall with a flick of my wrist.

She raises a brow at me, giving me that “do you think I care?” look. I run a hand down my face. I should apologize, but I don’t.

“The waiting room is down this hall. Take the left directly after the fire extinguisher and then a right after the elevators. You’ll go straight and on the left you’ll see a door with a sign for the surgery waiting room.”

“Thank you,” I mutter quickly then hurry down the hall and take all the directions she gave me. I walk and walk and walk until I feel like I’m going the wrong way, but I finally find the stupid door with the surgery waiting room label on the frosted glass. I open it too harshly and immediately hear sobbing.

A man and a woman are sitting in the chairs in the far corner. He’s hugging her as she cries, and I’m not sure if they got bad news or if they’re just worried because they haven’ heard anything yet. I try to calm myself as I close the door and take a seat. Being hysterical won’t help anyone. I need a clear head.

All I hear is the woman’s sobs. Sometimes they quiet, and sometimes they get worse. The man shushes her soothingly and says things I can’t hear. Nothing seems to help though. The woman is upset.

Part of me wishes I had someone to soothe me, but another part knows I wouldn’t tolerate that well. I just wish I had Tage here with me, but if I did, then we wouldn’t be here at all, now would we?

My leg bounces up and down, a nervous habit I got rid of long ago. How easily it comes back in a stressful situation.

The door opens and I nearly jump out of my skin. I’m on my feet in an instant, and the crying settles down. It’s a pair of police officers. They make eye contact with me first.

“Are you here for Edwards?”

I shake my head. “Have you heard anything about Tage Briar?”

“Sorry, no.” He then looks at the couple. “Edwards?”

The man nods, the woman still crying and unable to even look at them. The officers walk over to them.

The first one says, “We have some questions about your son. We know this is a difficult time, but we’re trying to piece together what happened.”

The other one adds, “Do you know why your son was in the area? Where he was coming from? Where was he going?”

“He said he was going out to breakfast with friends. I-I think he was on his way home,” the father says. “I’m not entirely sure. He’s eighteen. He comes and goes as he pleases. You know how these kids are.”

I lean forward with my elbows on my thighs and hang my head as I listen to their conversation.

“We have reason to believe alcohol was involved. Do you know if your son had been drinking?”

I grit my teeth to stop from saying what I think about that. If a drunk driver caused this, there will be hell to pay.

“At eight in the morning?” the father scoffs. “Of course not!”

No mention of him not drinking because he’s only eighteen though. That tells me all I need to know about them.

“We’re just trying to put the story together, sir. This was a very serious accident. Quite a few people are hurt.”

“You’re not blaming our son for this!” the man shouts. “He’s in surgery and may not make it!”