Her eyes finally stayed open long enough to zero in on the softly snoring man in the chair beside her bed. He’d fallen asleep facing the television that was turned to a national news channel. Captions ran across the bottom of the screen. For a moment, she watched, trying to figure out what day it was. The date and time stamp in the right-hand corner finally flashed and she blinked. She’d lost another two days.

“Cade?”

Sarah wasn’t sure she actually voiced his name out loud until he jerked and sat up. “Sarah?”

“Water.”

He grabbed the cup and held the straw to her lips.

After two pulls, she lowered her head back to the pillow. “What happened? Which hospital am I in?”

“You spiked a fever just before the flight home—which turned out to be thanks to a raging infection. We transported you here to the VA hospital, and the doctors pumped you full of antibiotics and more.” He shuddered and squeezed her fingers. “It’s been touch and go for the past few days.”

“Dustin . . . ,” she whispered.

Grief flashed across Caden’s face and he glanced away. So, that hadn’t been a dream—a nightmare—either. She noticed Gavin sitting under the window. “Hi,” she said.

“Hi.” He leaned forward. “How are you feeling?”

Embarrassed. Mortified. Devastated . . . “Tired. Very, very tired.”

“You’ve got visitors,” Caden said. “You up to it?”

“Who?” She forced her eyes to stay open.

“Brooke, Heather, and Ava.”

“Ava? Thought she was still on a boat somewhere in the Persian Gulf keeping Iran out of trouble.” Ava Jackson. A certified genius.

“She got home about two weeks ago. Her mother’s having some medical issues and Ava got a humanitarian placement in order to be closer to home and take care of her.”

“Her father died,” Sarah said, wondering why her tongue slurred the words.

“I know.”

“There have been times I wish mine would.” The thought shocked her. The look on Caden’s face jolted her. Had she said the words out loud? Apparently. Remorse came in waves, but her father’s latest betrayal had struck deep, creating a wound she couldn’t fathom ever healing. This one even worse than the first. The first betrayal had been his lack of caring for her mother when she’d been dying. No, forgiveness wasn’t an option at the moment.

“Sarah . . .” Gavin’s voice came from a distance while the blessed blackness beckoned. The darkness tempted her to let go of reality. All she had to do was drop into it and she could escape this world of pain, sorrow, and traitorous fathers. For a moment she fought it, then gave up, letting it swallow her back into the world of painless oblivion.