I leapt to my feet when I saw the same woman from earlier crossing the waiting room to me, notepad and pen in hand. The ID badge pinned to her scrubs said her name was Kelsey. When she held the notepad out to me, I made the instantaneous decision to turn my voice off and communicate strictly through this notepad.

My heart went freefalling when I read Kelsey’s words:

Our VRI seems to be broken.

My hand was trembling as I carefully wrote my response of, What?

Kelsey took the notepad back, wrote something down, and passed it back to me.

Can’t establish internet connection with interpreter.

This had to be a joke.

NOW WHAT? I wrote in capital letters, underlining the two words. What about my brother?

Kelsey’s lips went tight when she read my note, and her eyes were narrowed when she wrote down her response on the notepad and passed it back to me again.

Do you have anyone you can call to come sign for you?

Now this was a sticky situation. Hospitals were supposed to have VRIs for this exact reason, if no live interpreter was available—and this late at night it was unlikely one could be found.

I had no idea what I was supposed to do. I didn’t have Kathleen’s number, and she was an educational interpreter anyway, trained to interpret in an academic setting, not one like this.

Well, there was maybe one person. If Nina had been farther along in learning sign, I would have texted her, but she wasn’t quite as good as someone else I knew, and I needed to know what was happening with Connor.

It was a long shot and I didn’t think he would actually answer given how late it was—and maybe there was even the chance he wouldn’t want to talk to me after this, because this was a lot to ask of someone you were only just getting to know—but I sent the text to him anyway.

I need your help. Can you meet me at hospital?

Chapter 20

CHAPTER 20

It was just past three o’clock in the morning when Beau came striding into the ER. He was still in the sweatpants and T-shirt he must’ve fallen asleep in, his jacket and sneakers hastily thrown on, and his hair was a mess. But he was here, and his eyes found me immediately.

WHAT HAPPENED? he signed as he approached, concern etched across his face.

It took a tremendous amount of effort not to leap into his arms and beg him to tell me everything was going to be okay. I had to take a few deep breaths while I gnawed on my lip before I could sign a proper response.

MY BROTHER, I signed to Beau. CAN’T BREATHE.

YOUR BROTHER OK? WHERE INTERPRETER FOR YOU? he asked, and he jabbed a finger back at the check-in station.