Chapter 4

Mom was slipping fast.

The blood from her head had soaked through my sleeve, and the hand that had been warm was going cold, little by little.

I was frantic.

But the emergency dispatch line said there were no cars free nearby and told me to keep waiting.

Mom didn't have that kind of time.

I turned around, set my jaw, and knelt down in the middle of the road.

Cars kept passing, plenty of them.

I knocked my forehead against the pavement until it split, and still not one of them dared to stop.

In the end it was a kind couple who drove us to the hospital.

My clothes were already soaked through with blood, but I couldn't let myself ease up for a second.

The doctor looked at the test results, his face grave.

"Intracranial bleeding. She needs surgery immediately."

"Any later and we may not be able to save her."

I forced myself upright long enough to sign the surgery consent form, then ran with the paperwork to pay the fees, get the blood, admit her.

My stomach hurt like something was being wrung out of me.

Every step I took, my vision went black for a moment.

A nurse saw me bracing myself against the wall and couldn't help asking.

"Hey, aren't you the patient who was admitted yesterday for a stomach bleed? What are you doing here?"

"Where's your family? You can't be running around alone like this."

I looked down at my own signature in the family box on the form and gave a small shake of my head.

"I don't have any family."

April Henson had abandoned me again and again.

The light over the operating room came on.

I sat on the long bench, my palm still smeared with Mom's blood.

My phone suddenly buzzed.

Elmer James had posted something new.

"Some kinds of love never need to be spoken out loud."

In the photo, he was wearing my pajamas, lying in the bed April and I shared.

A small square of gauze was taped over his wrist.

April sat on the edge of the bed, head bent, blowing on a spoonful of chicken soup and bringing it to his mouth, one spoonful after another.

I stared at that photo for a long time.

Those pajamas were what April had given me on our wedding anniversary.

She said the color suited me, and that no one else was allowed to wear them but me.

That spoon was one we'd made together on our honeymoon.

She said it was a memory that belonged only to us, something to treasure our whole lives.

But now she'd forgotten all of it.

Staring at the photo, I felt the veins on the back of my hand draw tight, one by one.

Jaw clenched, I dialed April's number.

It rang for a long time before someone finally picked up.

But the voice that came through was Elmer's.

"Owen, are you looking for April?"

Faintly, I could hear running water from the bathroom.

Elmer let out a soft little laugh.

"She was just taking care of me, worked up a real sweat over it."

"She's in the shower now. Is there something you need? I can pass it along for you."

He said it so easily, so suggestively.

As if that were his bedroom. His wife.

I gripped the phone, but my voice came out strangely calm.

"I want a divorce."

The line was quiet for a few seconds.

Then Elmer laughed.

There was a note of satisfaction in it he didn't bother to hide.

"Owen, are you still angry about what happened with your mother?"

"April says she only bumped into her lightly. Your mother lost her footing on her own. You can't blame anyone else for that."

I didn't want to hear any of it.

I looked at the sealed doors of the operating room and said it out, word by word.

"Tell April I'll be waiting for her at the county courthouse at nine tomorrow morning."

"If she doesn't show up, I'll make her pay for it my own way!"

Elmer didn't agree to anything.

He paused for a moment, then laughed, low.

"Owen, don't talk big."

"There's something… you still don't know, is there?"