Chapter 4

After Claire left, someone wheeled me back into the main ER.

Mom brought a new triage form to the nurses' station and changed my assessment. She crossed out "Urgent" herself.

"Low blood pressure, cold sweats. He's probably still shaken up from the wedding. Put him under routine observation. He doesn't need a trauma bed."

Paige Newton, a young nurse, hesitated. "But there's blood under his clothes."

Mom shook her head. "There was broken glass everywhere. Just keep an eye on him."

Meanwhile, Lila submitted her incident report to the hospital. It stated that every piece of the chandelier's outer frame was accounted for and no bloodstained metal fragments were found at the scene.

She handed Sophia her phone. "A support rod couldn't have stabbed him. He's in pain and probably confused about what happened."

Sophia nodded, sat down at a computer, and added a note to my chart.

[No obvious external injuries observed. No severe internal injury suspected at this time.]

Once she saved the notes, the rest of my tests were canceled.

Paige came over. When she saw my hands moving, she stopped.

"He's signing. Should we get an interpreter?"

I nodded hard, but Mom stepped in. "I'm his mother. I understand him."

"What is he saying?" the nurse asked.

I told Mom again, in signs she knew, that a piece of metal was lodged in my back.

She glanced at my hands. "He wants to know if Evan's tests are done."

I stared at her, then caught her sleeve.

[No. That's not what I said.]

I tried again.

[Metal in my lower back. I'm dying.]

Before I could finish, she pulled her sleeve free.

"I'm busy, Kyle. Once Evan's stable, I'll come sit with you."

She went back to the nurses' station and started coordinating care for the other patients.

Lila was finishing her incident report. Sophia was studying Evan's test results.

Neither of them looked at my hands again.

Paige accepted Mom's explanation. She was my mother and the head nurse, after all.

She took off my red wristband and replaced it with a green one. Red meant I needed immediate care. Green meant I could wait.

An orderly brought over a wheelchair. He needed my stretcher for another patient.

I shook my head and held tight to the rail. Claire warned them not to move me again, but he couldn't understand what I was trying to tell him.

"We're just getting you into a wheelchair. Hang on. This'll only take a second."

He put an arm around my shoulders and helped me up.

The moment my back lifted off the mattress, the metal inside me shifted. I could almost hear it tearing through flesh.

Blinding pain shot through me. Then a strange, weightless feeling took over, and the faces around me blurred.

The orderly lowered me into the wheelchair and pushed me to the waiting area outside the CT room.

I used the last of my strength to sign for help.

He followed my gaze. "Looking for your family?"

He pointed to the CT room. "They're all in there with that young man."

Then he took the empty stretcher away.

Blood kept running down my back beneath the uniform, hidden by the dark fabric.

I turned the wheelchair toward the CT room, trying to ram the door. The wheels barely moved before my hands slipped off the rims.

My wedding ring slid from my finger and hit the floor. Sophia had put it on my hand herself that morning.

It rolled across the polished floor and struck the CT room door.

The door opened, and Sophia stepped out with a hand on Evan's arm. His nose had stopped bleeding, and the color was back in his face.

She spotted the ring and bent to pick it up.

"Kyle, now you're throwing your wedding ring away? Evan's tests are done. Stop making a scene."

I raised my hand one last time.

I wanted to tell her she was wrong, to get her to look at my back. But I no longer trusted any of them to help me.

I turned to Paige standing nearby and tried to sign.

[Don't trust them. Get someone else to help me.]

I only got halfway through before my hand fell into my lap.

Sophia finally looked at me, still holding my wedding ring.

By then, I sat motionless in the wheelchair.

I wasn't breathing anymore.