In Her Eyes by Sarah Alderson (ebook reader for pc and android TXT) 📕

‘How?’

‘He’s given me what he had and he’s trying to refinance his house.’

Shit. Does Laurie know about this? She’ll kill him if she finds out. Should I tell her?

‘Look,’ Gene says to me, ‘Dave was just a silent partner. He gave me a little seed money, that’s all. He wasn’t involved at all in anything else. He said he really needed the cash. I think he asked Dad for a loan and Dad said no.’

‘Sell whatever you can,’ I say, sighing and gesturing at the house. ‘Furniture, paintings, anything.’ I pull off the diamond eternity ring that Robert bought for me last year. ‘And this, take this. It’s worth at least twenty-five thousand.’

Gene stares at the ring I place in his outstretched palm. ‘I can’t.’

‘Oh please don’t let your conscience stop you now,’ I tell him. ‘I’m not doing this for you.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Gene says. ‘I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.’

He’s looking at me pleadingly but I can’t give him the absolution he’s asking for. ‘But it did.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Stop saying that. It doesn’t make it better. It doesn’t change anything.’

‘I—’ He stops himself, his fisted hand punching his thigh.

‘The only thing you can do now is get the money and pay them.’

He nods. ‘I will.’

‘And after you’ve paid your debt I want you to leave. I don’t ever want to see you again. You’re not welcome near this family, do you understand?’

‘Ava,’ he says. ‘Please. It’s my family too.’

‘Not any longer.’

He doesn’t move for a few seconds, but then he slopes towards the door, pausing when he reaches it. ‘Don’t let them switch the life support off.’

‘She’s my daughter. I decide.’

‘She’s my sister,’ he answers quietly. And then he’s gone and I’m slamming the door behind him.

Chapter 38

Lies. Lies. Lies.

Laurie drives me to the hospital and I stay quiet the whole way, not telling her about Dave. I think about it – a couple of times it’s even on the tip of my tongue – but in the end, I stay silent. I can’t be the one to tell her. It should be him.

I find Hannah in June’s room where I left her. Jonathan is there too and when I enter, the two of them spring apart like repelling magnets. Hannah looks like she’s been crying and Jonathan’s face is blotchy red, his Sheriff hat askew.

‘Mom,’ Hannah says, rushing over and hugging me like I’ve been gone years, not hours.

‘I was worried about you,’ she says.

‘I’m fine,’ I say.

She clings to me and I notice she’s trembling. I glance over her head at Jonathan, who gives me a quick smile and then hurries outside.

‘Are you OK?’ I ask Hannah.

She nods. ‘Yes,’ she mumbles. She was upset, I guess, and he was comforting her. I keep forgetting that Hannah is going through this too. I’m so caught up in everything, I’m not being a good mother to her.

‘I’m sorry,’ I murmur into her hair. ‘I love you.’

‘I love you too,’ she says, still clinging to me.

I take her face in my palms and look at her, my first born, my love, older now than I was when I had her.

‘Is everything going to be OK?’ she asks.

I nod, pulling her back into my arms so she can’t see the truth in my expression.

A knock makes me turn. It’s the hospital administrator, along with Dr Warier and another doctor I recognize as the neurologist.

‘Mrs Walker,’ Dr Warier begins.

I eye them all suspiciously. ‘Hannah,’ I say, ‘why don’t you step aside and give us a minute?’

She makes to argue with me but I glare at her and she leaves.

‘What is it?’ I say to Dr Warier.

‘We wanted to talk to you about organ donation.’

‘What?’ I say.

‘At a time like this—’

I cut him off. ‘I heard you. But we’re not discussing it, because you’re not switching off those machines.’

The neurologist steps forwards. ‘I’m afraid that there’s an absence of motor responses and very high levels of enolase in June’s system. She is, in my opinion, brain dead.’

‘Your opinion,’ I say.

The neurologist gives me a steely stare. ‘Yes, my opinion.’

I turn to the clipboard-clutching administrator. ‘And that opinion is in no way biased by the fact the cost of keeping her on life support is now in the millions and the hospital is concerned about our ability to honor the bill?’

‘That’s completely ridiculous,’ the administrator splutters. ‘An outrageous suggestion.’

I death-stare her until she shrivels like a flower cut down by a squirt of Round Up.

Dr Warier steps forwards. ‘It’s been over a week,’ he says in an even tone, ‘and the chances of the patient recovering are much less than five per cent.’

I nod. ‘Someone once gave June similar odds and she beat them, so next time you tell me my daughter’s life support needs switching off, I suggest you give me much worse odds than that.’

The doctors glance between themselves and I can see them trying to weigh up what to do next and whose turn it is to speak. ‘And I want a second opinion. This time from an expert.’

Once more the doctors confer silently – a whole language of alarmed looks and twitching eyebrows.

‘I don’t think—’ the administrator starts.

‘Well, I know that,’ I shoot back before she can finish. ‘But we’re asking for a second opinion and we’re going to get one, and until then you’ll care for my daughter as though she’s about to come out of her coma, not as though you’re about to harvest her for her organs. Do you understand me?’

Nods all around.

‘Good. Because we’d hate to add another lawsuit to the one we’re already going to file against the hospital and the Sheriff’s department and the state for allowing someone to waltz in here and attempt to murder our daughter for a second time.’

Eventually Dr Warier speaks up again, clearing his throat loudly. ‘We’ll leave you be.’

I watch them troop out of the room then collapse down into the chair by June’s side, breathing fast and feeling faint.