“Huh.” She put it in her pocket. “You can go in to see Jose now, in room 2C. I think it’s good you talk to him. But stay positive.”

As the three of them walked into the pediatric ICU, through the locked double doors and past the desk, the doctor touched Angel’s arm lightly, speaking quietly. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

Duke followed Gabriela into Jose’s room, surprised that no one stopped him to ask if he was family. The machinery and computers provided a light hum and a low, constant beep. I suppose that’s his heart. Please keep beating.

Gabriela, her face white, caught his eye. He put an arm around her and walked with her to Jose’s side. “We’re here, little buddy. It’s me, Duke.” He nudged Gabriela.

The hairdresser started crying. Duke said quietly, in her ear, “We’ve got to be strong. Okay? For both of them.” Gabriela nodded, dried her tears, and gently took Jose’s hand. Duke knew she loved Jose like her own family and that she kept her mouth closed because she’d be unable to control her tears if she didn’t. Duke totally understood—he felt the same.

Angel swept in and moved directly to her son. Settling in next to him, gingerly working her arm around his head and the tubes, she said, “I’m right here, mi chiquito. Right here. I was talking to the doctor. She says you are going to be just fine and it’s okay if you take this little rest.”

Duke was proud of her. The young mother’s voice hitched at the end, but she maintained control. Angel was going to be what Jose needed. He watched as she smoothed the hair and perspiration off her son’s forehead, laid her cheek against his pale skin. Softly, she repeated, “She says you’re going to be okay.”

But Duke had also seen the dark rage in her eyes as she entered the room. He hoped it didn’t mean there really was something wrong with Jose. Or that he had anything to do with it. He’d never forgive himself.

Chapter Twenty-three

The rhythmic noises of the hospital equipment and the soothing murmurs of the women as they caressed Jose were hypnotic, but terror and the pain in Duke’s ankle kept him awake. His phone rang, startling him. “I’m sorry, guys. Didn’t realize I had it on.”

They weren’t paying any attention to him.

It was Kinley on the phone. No one noticed when Duke limped out into the hall and leaned against the wall of the ICU; it was unbearable to put any weight on his ankle. But right now seemed like the wrong time to complain. He’d make sure the kid was okay, then he’d see somebody. Not Dr. Collins. A real doctor. No need to hide anymore.