The hallways of the building were cluttered with people trying to see what had happened. Bright flashing police lights blinded me as Simon carried me to his car. All the way to his house, I didn’t say a word. My head leaned up against the window as I stared out into the night. I was numb. When we arrived at his house, he carried me from the car and upstairs to his bathroom. He made me sit on the toilet while he started a bath.

“I don’t want to take a bath,” I whispered.

“You need to get yourself cleaned up if you want to go to the hospital.”

He lifted me from the toilet, undressed me, and then helped me into the bath. Grabbing the loofah sponge from the corner, he poured some of my lavender-scented shower gel that I kept there on it and slowly caressed my skin, focusing mainly on my hands.

“Everything’s going to be okay. They are going to pull through and make it.”

“You don’t know that. What if she dies?” I began to sob.

“She’s not going to die, Gabrielle.”

“I have to be with her. I have to go to the hospital, Simon.” I started to get extremely upset.

“Calm down. I’m almost finished cleaning you up and then we’ll go.”

Simon helped me out of the tub and wrapped an oversized towel around my body. He walked over to the drawer that I had taken over, as I left some clothes behind from my weekly sleepovers. As I dressed, he changed into different clothes. I sat on the edge of the bed in a daze until he helped me up and we went to the hospital.

Chapter 25

When we arrived at the hospital, both Giana and Donovan were in surgery. We took a seat in the surgical waiting room and Simon fetched us some coffee.

“Here, darling.” He handed me a cup.

“Thanks.”

He took the seat next to me and took hold of my hand. I was exhausted as I laid my head on his shoulder. When I awoke, I was lying down on the couch with a blanket over me and Simon was standing by the window, on the phone. I sat up and had to focus on where I was at. I had prayed it was nothing but a nightmare, but it wasn’t. Simon turned around and looked at me as he hung up from his phone call.

“Any news yet?”

“No, I just checked with the nurse and they both just got out of surgery.”

“What time is it?”

“Six a.m.,” he replied as he kissed my head.

“Gabrielle McCarthy?” a man in surgical scrubs asked as he walked into the waiting room.

“Yes.” I stood up.