“No kidding,” Freddie said. “I had no idea.”

Vernon coughed to hide a laugh.

“Don’t be a smart-ass.”

“My apologies,” Freddie said.

“And don’t apologize when you’re not actually sorry.”

“I know this totally sucks, and I’m sorry it’s so frustrating.”

“I keep thinking back to last Sunday when we were hanging out in our cabin at Camp David with no idea whatsoever that a bomb was about to go off in our lives.”

“It’s so awful. I can’t stop thinking about him playing with Jack on Christmas morning and how good he always was with him.”

“Yeah.” When tears filled her eyes, Sam turned to look out the window. “Ella won’t remember Spence, and the baby will never get to meet him. I can’t imagine Angela facing that on her own.”

“She’ll be surrounded by family and friends. She’ll never be on her own.”

“I feel so guilty because all I can think about since it happened is that I’d die if anything like that ever happened to Nick. I would simply cease to exist.”

“No, you wouldn’t.”

“I really would, and what kind of sister does it make me that I’m thinking of myself at a time like this?”

“You’re the best sister and friend anyone could ever ask for,” Freddie said, “and it’s only natural to think that way when disaster strikes close to home this way.”

“Makes me feel like a selfish asshole to be worried about my own husband when my sister has just been widowed.”

“It’s normal, Sam. Ask Vernon. Isn’t it normal?”

“It is,” Vernon said. “When my wife’s father and brother died of lung cancer within two years of each other, I worried for years that it was coming for my wife, too. It’s what people do, Sam. They worry about lightning striking them after it’s hit someone close to them.”

“That makes me feel a little better. Thanks, you guys.” She glanced at the clock again. “Not sure how much longer I can wait.”

“I can stay if you have to go.”

“You need to get home to your wife.”

“She’s seeing her sister after work, so it’s fine. I can stay awhile longer.”

Sam was about to leave when the phone rang with a call from Anderson. She pounced on it. “Hey.”

“He’s conscious and alert if you want to come talk to him.”

“Coming in now.”

Vernon had the door open before Sam finished the call. “Thank you,” she said to him.

“Sure thing.”

He followed them into the waiting room, where, predictably, everything came to a stop when people realized who’d come in.

Sam pressed forward, showing her badge at the reception desk. “Dr. Anderson is expecting me.”

“Yes, ma’am, Mrs. Cappuano, and if I may say—”

“Please get the doctor.”

He came around the corner and gestured for them to follow him.

“You need to tell her that when I show up, I’m Lieutenant Holland, and I don’t have time for nonsense.”

“I’ll take care of it.” He stopped outside a cubicle. “Bryan Smith, age thirty-two and very lucky to be alive.”