"They will be, but I'll still be loving you, Brynn, and worrying about you no matter what you're doing. I'll also be rooting for you every step of the way, and I better get good tickets for your shows."

"First row, I promise." I looked up as Steve and Kade came back into the room.

"Your bed is waiting," Steve told Dani.

"I'm ready," Dani said as her husband helped her to her feet. "Thank you again, Kade."

"Get some rest," he replied.

"I will." She turned to me. "You'll be upstairs?"

"Yes. Sleep well."

"You, too."

As they moved down the hall and into the guest room, I took our plates to the sink.

"You're not cleaning up," Kade told me, as he blocked me from doing any more clearing. "Why don’t you go upstairs and lay down?"

"I am tired. Where are you going to be?" I asked.

He hesitated. "I'm going to clean up and then I'll go to my apartment."

As our gazes met, there seemed to be a lot of unspoken words between us, but neither one of us opened our mouth. Finally, Kade cleared his throat, and said, "I'd like to go with you to the hospital tomorrow. I want to hear what Laura and Rachel have to say."

"You should be there. Their story is part of your past as well as mine. I'm sorry they had anything to do with what happened to your dad."

"I'm sorry, too," he said heavily, a deep sadness in his gaze. "But it has nothing to do with you."

As I headed upstairs, I wished that was true, but I had a feeling it wasn't.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

My mother had been moved out of the ICU, and there was no longer a guard at her door when Dani, Steve, Kade, and I arrived at her room just before eleven o'clock on Tuesday morning. We'd all slept in after the exhausting, traumatic events of the day before. But now our break from reality was over.

I entered the room first, the others following close behind. My mother was sitting up in bed, a bandage on her shoulder and another on her head, but her face had more color in it. A mix of emotions ran through her gaze as she looked at us. I saw pain and guilt, but also a steely resolve. She'd clearly been mentally preparing herself for this moment.

Before any of us could speak, the door opened once more, and a nurse wheeled Rachel into the room. A thick bandage was visible on her shoulder, and she looked tired but also resigned.

"I asked the nurse to tell me when you got here," Rachel said. "I thought we should all be together."

"How are you feeling?" I asked.

"I'm fine," Rachel said, with a dismissive shake of her head. "And that's not what you came here to talk about, so let's get down to it."