“I should get back,” she said. She balled up the wrapper her burger had come in, took a last sip of her shake. “Will you move your car?” She paused, then added, “Please?”

“Sure.”

“My phone?” Jeremy said.

“Not to worry,” I said, raising my hand. “It’s safe with me.”

We all stood. I put my coffee cup on the plastic tray. When Jeremy made no move to gather up his trash and clear the table, Charlene did it.

As the three of us were walking out, I briefly unnerved the kid taking the orders by slipping behind the counter.

“Mister?” he said.

“Just one sec.”

I held Jeremy’s phone an inch over the fryer, then dropped it carefully into the sizzling oil so as not to make a splash.

“What the fuck?” said Jeremy.

I slipped a ten to the kid on the till. “For your trouble. You might have to throw out that batch of fries.”

TEN

CONSTANCE Gaffney had her husband drop her and Monica off at the main entrance to Promise Falls General while Albert parked the car. The couple had not said a word to each other on the drive over, and when Monica attempted to ask any questions, all either of them would say was “We’ll see.” Or, “I don’t know.”

Except once, when Constance said, to no particular question, “Your father might know that. He seems to have the answer to everything.”

Albert didn’t even glance in her direction.

Constance and Monica were still standing at the information desk, stuck behind an elderly couple who’d been wandering the hospital trying to find the gerontology department, when Albert Gaffney came in through the sliding glass doors.

“Where is he?” he whispered.

“We’re still waiting to find out,” Constance said irritably.

Albert stood silently with his wife and daughter while the older couple struggled with the directions they were being given.

“We go which way?” the woman asked. “Follow which line?”

Constance looked at Albert and tipped her head, urging him wordlessly to interrupt the two old codgers and find out where Brian was. When he didn’t immediately butt in, Monica took the lead.

“Hey,” she said, raising her voice and cutting in front of the couple. “My brother Brian Gaffney got brought in. Where is he?”

The woman tapped away on her computer. “Probably still in the ER,” she said. “If they’ve moved him to a room, it hasn’t shown up here yet.”

“Which way?” Constance barked.

Once they’d been given directions, they made their way to the emergency department. They were told they’d find Brian in the adjoining ward in bed thirty-two. The three of them wandered in there, past beds that had been curtained off, until they reached the right one. The drape was pulled shut.

It was Monica who tentatively pulled it back to see if her brother was there.

“Hey,” Brian said. “I was wondering if you guys would come.” He was sitting up in bed, clad in a hospital dressing gown, covers pulled up to his waist. His clothes were piled on a nearby chair.