Chapter 6

The hospital was lit with a cold white brightness that made everything feel more urgent. The smell of disinfectant hung in the air, and every step echoed through the long, quiet corridors. The moment we walked into the emergency room, my mom rushed toward me.

“Cami, how are you feeling? Does it hurt a lot? Where are you injured?” Her words tumbled over one another, as if she needed to confirm I was still whole.

“I’m fine, Mom. My foot hurts, and my back a little, but I’ll be okay,” I replied, trying to sound convincing. I knew it was useless—the lecture would come anyway.

Dad leaned in with a worried expression. It was my first time coming through the ER, and that alone made it unsettling for everyone.

“You really scared us, kiddo. What exactly happened?”

I opened my mouth to answer, but Jacob stepped in first, his calm sounding almost rehearsed.

“I suppose Camila needs to learn not to wear heeled boots to a concert—especially if she plans on climbing a barrier and jumping to the music.”

He said it without looking at me. Kate, standing beside him, simply nodded.

Mom sighed and brushed my cheek.

“Did you lose your balance, Cami? That doesn’t sound like you,” she said as she stroked my hair, that familiar motherly gesture meant to keep herself calm.

“Something like that,” I replied, forcing a smile. “I guess I got caught up in the moment, and the barrier wasn’t very wide.”

I didn’t like lying to her, but I didn’t want to expose Jacob either. I didn’t understand why he’d made up that story instead of telling the truth, but I decided that was a conversation for another time—maybe when things had cooled down. Maybe then I’d tell Mom what really happened.

“Oh, Camimi, I know I didn’t bless you with much height, but you really should be more careful next time,” Mom added, trying to joke, though her worry still showed. I just smiled faintly.

A nurse approached with a stack of forms, and within minutes, I was being guided to a gurney in the emergency room. Kate and Jacob stayed outside while Mom and Dad went in with me.

The nurse helped me change into a hospital gown and examined my back—there were bruises and a scrape, nothing serious.

“That must’ve been quite a fall,” she commented.

“With my size, any barrier feels like a wall,” I replied, managing to make her laugh. I’m not sure if she believed me, but she didn’t ask any more questions.

Then they took me to X-ray to get images of my foot. The hallway was long and freezing, monitors beeping somewhere in the distance. The wheelchair squeaked softly, and for the second time that night, I felt small and fragile.

Back in the room, Mom took my hand gently.

“Jacob went to take Kate home,” she explained. “She had already told her parents she’d be late, but Jacob insisted on driving her so she wouldn’t have to wait here.”

She paused, studying me closely, probably scanning for anything she might have missed, and brushed a strand of hair from my face.

“So you have to expect a visit tomorrow.”

“From Jacob?” I asked, more surprised than I meant to sound.

“Jacob didn’t say anything, but Kate will come,” Mom clarified.

I bit my lip to keep from saying more. I didn’t want her to notice my disappointment—and maybe I didn’t want to acknowledge it myself.

«He left without saying goodbye.»

«He left.»

At that moment, the doctor came in holding my X-ray. He was a middle-aged man with a calm voice and kind eyes, the sort who knew exactly how to deliver bad news without making it sound unbearable.

“Hello, Camila. I’m Dr. Brown. How are you feeling?”

“I think I’ve had better days, Doctor,” I said, earning a small chuckle.

“Well then, I hope you’re not a dancer,” he began pleasantly. “You have a fracture in your ankle.”

I swallowed as he went on. I didn’t say anything, but my expression was enough.

“You’ll need to use crutches for three weeks, followed by an orthopedic boot for another two. After the first three weeks, you’ll come back to have the cast removed and switch to the boot. If you’re in a lot of pain, I can prescribe painkillers, but I don’t think they’ll be necessary. Caution and rest will be the best medicine this time. All right?”

“All right, Doctor. Thank you very much. I’m not a dancer, but I do practice yoga.”

“In that case, yoga will have to wait a little while,” he replied with a half-smile, then added lightly, “And I don’t need to say it, but no more climbing barriers, right?”

“No more barriers. I promise,” I said, smiling back.

The doctor nodded, satisfied.

“Good. I’ll finish the paperwork, and you’ll be able to go home shortly.”

When he left, Mom leaned toward me, wearing that familiar blend of tenderness and firmness.

“You heard him, Cami. You’ll need to rest. With crutches, you won’t be running all over the place like you usually do. You’ll have to behave yourself.”

“I’ll do my best,” I replied, and we both laughed—though deep down, we knew that would be the hardest part.