“Finally,” he muttered when she was gone. He was the only one left in the waiting room. He’d been afraid that even with a magazine covering his face, she’d recognize him. No doubt she would have if she’d been paying attention.

When he was sure she wasn’t going to turn back, he strode over to the elevator. As much as Tobias didn’t care for Susan, he had to admire the depth of her love for her son. He’d always envied the boys in school who had devoted mothers. His mother had rarely come to class, showed up at only one or two school events during his entire childhood. She couldn’t even pack him or Maddox a decent lunch, he remembered as he watched the numbers light up at the top of the elevator. If she ever tried, she’d simply stuff a bunch of junk food in a bag and hand it over—not that he’d minded that when he was a kid. Taking anything from home made for a good day, since he and Maddox had almost always been on the free-lunch program.

He got off on the fourth floor. Jada had given him Atticus’s room number, so he was fairly confident he’d be able to find it. What he didn’t know was how he’d be received. Atticus claimed to have forgiven him, and these days he was friendly whenever they ran into each other. But this recent accident could easily have reminded him of all the things he couldn’t do—because of Tobias. It was even possible that Atticus might’ve been able to avoid hitting anything at all last night, if only he’d had the use of his legs. Then he wouldn’t be here.

“Hello?” He knocked on the doorframe, since the door stood open, but received no response, so he peeked inside.

He had the right room. Atticus was lying in the bed with his eyes closed.

Tobias looked up and down the hallway. It was well after visiting hours, but Maddox had indicated the hospital wasn’t strict on that policy, not if whoever was there wasn’t causing a problem.

A nurse hurried past, but she was intent on getting wherever she was going and didn’t pay him any mind.

He stepped inside the room and took the chair next to the bed; he didn’t say anything for quite some time, just watched Atticus breathe. If only he hadn’t gone to the party that terrible night, or hadn’t taken acid, or hadn’t found that gun, which had belonged to the parents of the boy who was throwing the party.