Chapter 13: One Thing That Costs

Summer stood in the middle of the waiting room with her hand still pressed to her mouth.

Nobody spoke to her.

A security guard came through the staff door and stopped a few feet away, waiting for me to say what I wanted.

"Let her walk out on her own," I said.

Summer looked at me for a long moment.

"Kate."

"I'm not calling the police. I'm not hugging you either."

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Go and find somewhere to sleep that isn't your car."

She nodded slowly.

She went out through the sliding doors in her creased white dress, and the rain took her.

The room started breathing again.

A boy lowered his phone.

An older woman patted the seat beside her, and Donovan sat down in it without a word.

I went back to the desk and worked until seven.

I took a blood pressure, set a wrist and held a drunk man's head while he was sick.

I did every chart properly, because my hands needed something to do.

At seven the day shift came in, and Donovan was still in the plastic chair.

He had not asked me for anything all night.

"Walk me to my car," I said.

His car was on the third level of the hospital garage.

It was gray outside, and cold, and the concrete smelled of rain and exhaust.

I got into the passenger seat and shut the door.

He sat behind the wheel with both hands on it, the bandaged one stiff.

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