Free Every Little Piece by Kate Ashton Page B

She gently pried them off and laid my arm back on the bed.
    “It’s okay, hon. You were in an accident. But you’re going to make it. I believe you made it out with whiplash, a concussion and bruises from the airbag and the impact.” Her eyes were set against her dark face. She wore her kinky hair super short. She was good. Her job was to calm down the wackos who woke up and realized they were in the hospital and their boyfriend might be dead. But she knew something.
    “Seth! Is Seth here?” I managed to whisper. The words scratched at my throat.
    “Only your parents are allowed in, and we sent them down for a break. They’ll be back shortly.”
    “Seth!” She didn’t understand, and my frustration grew. “Is he here in the hospital?”
    She smiled. “Is he your honey? Any other guests, we sent home.”
    A tear slipped down my cheek. “No.”
    She rubbed my cheek and tucked the blanket around me. Without a word, she fiddled with the machinery.
    “I mean. Is he hurt? In the hospital?”
    She pressed her lips together as if debating how much to say. That expression sent panic sweeping through me. Oh my God. He was dead. I hadn’t made it in time. Those sirens we’d heard were for him. As I wondered about Seth, horror crept in and squeezed my chest. I could barely breathe. I heard the crunch of metal again and the screams. Kama! And Brin!
    I pushed up onto my elbows even though every muscle in my body complained. I barely got the words out. “My friends. In the car. Are they okay?” My voice trembled, and I teetered on the edge. That was what she held back. It wasn’t her job to tell me that my friends hadn’t made it. Dead. I killed them. I had to know.
    I ripped out any tubes going into my arm. It hurt like hell. The tape peeled off my skin, ripping all the tiny hairs with it. Every movement sent pain crashing through my head. I stumbled out of the bed. Strong hands gripped my arms.
    “Now that’s enough, Haley. You must stay in bed.” She pressed a button on the wall. I knew what would come next. They’d prick me and put me back to sleep.
    “No!” I yelled. I had to see the rooms. Maybe they were there, sleeping off a concussion just like me. They had to be. Had to be.
    She tried her hardest to force me back to bed. But any pain I’d endured didn’t matter. The pain felt cathartic as it sliced through me. I hauled off and punched her in the face. I screamed, the sobs fighting to break free. I reached the door and whipped it open.
    An old man shuffled down the hallway in his walker, his hospital gown flapping open in the back. A nurse scurried over to me from a desk, so I booked it down the hall to the next room. I opened the door. Empty. I rushed to the next door and opened it. A small girl watched reruns of Dora on the television. The next door. An old lady snored in bed. I went from door to door. I stopped outside the last door. This was my last hope, and I didn’t want to open it.
    Two male nurses each grabbed an arm. I grimaced, waiting for the needle.
    “Don’t touch her!”
    My dad stepped forward and wrapped his arms around me. I collapsed against him. The warmth of his shirt smelled like home. His arms hadn’t held me like this since I was a little girl. But I remembered. It was everything safe and loving. I remembered. Together, we sank to the floor, and he just held me.
    “I need to know,” I mumbled against his chest. I hoped and prayed the fact that Brin and Kama weren’t in any of the rooms was a mistake. Maybe they were on a different floor. Or they were miraculously thrown from the car. I just needed them to be alive.
    “I’m sorry, Haley.” His words were soft but pierced through to my heart. “They didn’t make it.”
    I wailed, the sobs breaking through any restraint I had. He held me, and we rocked together in the hallway of the hospital. He ran his fingers down my hair and rubbed my back.
    But nothing helped. Nothing would ever help.
     

Carter and I raced up to the