She refused to give up. If it took her a lifetime of groveling, she’d find a way to prove to him that she loved him.

Hearing footsteps behind her, she turned in time to see a man turn on his heels and walk back down the hall toward the doors. She squinted. George? Not pausing to consider it, she hurried after him. “George...Mr. Reynolds?” she said as she caught up to him.

Dressed in a pair of stained jeans, work boots and a black thermal winter coat, he hesitated, looking toward the exit. His eyes were bloodshot and his complexion pale. He looked thin and nervous, running a hand through his long, disheveled hair when she reached him. “Hi...uh...I heard about Reed.”

“How?” Had Cassie called her dad? Had Arlene? How much did Reed know about his father’s whereabouts? He’d have a lot to deal with when he recovered. She would be there for him. For everything he needed.

“The Search and Rescue log online,” George said. “Whenever there’s an emergency call, I, uh...like to keep an eye on the reports.”

All these years, he’d been keeping an eye on Reed from afar.

He cleared his throat. “Erika, right? Um, excuse me, Dr. Sheraton now?”

“Erika,” she said with a nod.

“Time flies... Last time I saw you...” He shoved his hands into too-baggy faded jeans and rocked back on his heels. “How is he? He going to be okay?”

“He’s in recovery. A lot of broken bones and bruising. They—my dad—was able to repair the damage done to the spleen.”

She saw him wince, followed by a look of relief. “Good...good. That’s really good.” He forced several deep breaths.

She tentatively reached out and touched his shoulder. “Cassie and Arlene are in with him. You can go in once they come out.”

He shook his head quickly. “No. No. I, uh... He’s okay, that’s all I needed to know.” He looked at the door, ready to flee.

Let him go or convince him to stay and see his son? Man, she was not good at this. “I’m sure he’d like to see you,” she said. She really wasn’t sure if that was true or not, but Reed had been searching for the man for years, so she chose to believe he would—on some level at least.

He lowered his head, staring at the floor. “Um... I don’t think I can. Not today. Not yet.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

“You see, I’m afraid the memory of me is far better than any reality of who I am now.”