Jay’s pov: I froze.
A man in a brown coat.
The words didn’t land right away.
They sat outside me, like Dr.
Henderson had said them in another language, and I had to translate them one syllable at a time before they meant anything.
Then they meant everything, and the meaning hit like a hand around my throat.
“What did you say?” “Jay—” “What did you just say?” I was standing.
I didn’t remember standing.
“It’s a detail from the footage.
A pedestrian near the alley entrance.
It doesn’t mean anything yet.
Jay, sit down.” “You don’t say that.
You don’t say ‘a man in a brown coat’ to me and tell me to sit down.” My own voice sounded far away, too fast, climbing register by register until I heard myself “You know what that means.
You were there.
You pulled her chart.
You know what happened when she was six, you know exactly what a man in a brown coat—” “Jay.” Margaret called out firm.
“He said—” “I heard what he said.
I need you to breathe.” “Don’t tell me to breathe.” The room had gone strange and bright at the edges, too much light bleeding in off the machines, off the window, off Kate’s still face beyond the glass.
My hands wouldn’t stop shaking.
I looked down at them like they belonged to somebody else, some stranger auditioning to wear my skin.
“You think it’s him.” Nobody answered that.
Margaret’s jaw tightened, a small movement, the kind she probably didn’t know she made.
Henderson looked at Kate through the glass instead of at me, which was its own kind of answer.
I feared for it.
For him to never find any of us.
But of course people would come back from prison to get revenge.
“He’s not supposed to know where we live,” I said I put my head in my hands.
The water Henderson had set in front of me sweated a ring onto the little rolling table, and I stared at it instead of at either of them, because looking at people who were trying to be kind to me while I came apart felt unbearable in a way I didn’t have language for.
“I’ll give you four minutes to just be a person whose sister is in a coma, and then we go back to being the people who have to fix this.
Is that fair?” It wasn’t fair.
Nothing about any of it was fair.
But I nodded into my hands, and she let the silence hold for exactly as long as she’d promised, the two of them not speaking, the monitors keeping their patient rhythm on the other side of the glass, and somewhere in that silence I found enough of myself to stand back up.
“Okay,” I said.
“Okay.
I’m okay.” “You’re not,” Margaret said.
“But you’re upright, which is enough for now.” My hands were still shaking.
I got up abruptly.
“I need air.” It was an information, it was not a request.
I didn’t want there permission.
I walked away before they could bother to respond.
I walked, didn’t see where I was going.
My palms were sweating.
I was scared.
I didn’t know what to do.
How to react.
My own breathing was uneven.
Marcus would have been back home by now.
Sakura is in Japan.
But if I don’t tell her she will be disappointed.
CLASH!
I bumped into someone.
“Jesus—watch where you’re—” I looked up.
Keifer.
Of all the people, of all the hospitals in this city.
Why here?
I could feel a vein popping in my head.
“What are you doing here?” He asked, voice firm.
“None of your business.
King of Assholes!” I snapped.
He smirked and leaned closer to my face.
“King of assholes…
That’s quite offensive.” He murmured.
I pushed him away.
“What about you?” I asked raising an eyebrow.
He paused for a second amused.
Then his expression was back to normal.
“My brother is sick.” Ah!
Right!
I did see he was their guardian too.
I didn’t bother digging up much into the profiles.
But I did enough for my knowledge.
He has two brothers…
Hmm…
“Ok…” I mumbled.
“You haven’t answered my question yet.” He said.
My mind went back to Kate.
No!
Not now.
Can’t let anyone know about her.
“My friend is sick…
I came to visit her.” He nodded.
“KUYA!” A kid yelled.
“See you tomorrow at school Jay!” He said, walking away towards the voice which had called him.