Ridley’s hurt or worse, my audition is out the window, and I’ve been lying to my parents for weeks. I’ve lost everything that matters in one night. I’m hurt and I’m pissed and I’m scared, and I don’t even know what to do with any of this.

“I’m sorry,” I say when my mom and Vera wrap me tight in a hug, uttering things like “oh thank god” and “you’re okay.” Their hot tears prick against my neck, and it reminds me of how warm his blood was on my hands, and I gag. My mom leans back and places her hand on my forehead like she did when I was little, and I just want to go home.

“What were you guys doing out there? Where did you even get a car? I thought you were going to Frankie’s, and then the hospital calls!”

“He was turning around, Mom, I swear,” I cry. “We were coming home.”

“Jesus Christ, Jubilee. What were you thinking? And, Jubi, your arm! Your arm!”

“He wouldn’t wake up,” I choke out before dissolving into a fresh round of tears. The doctor stands in the corner, exasperated. “I was trying to help, Mom. I was trying to help! They won’t tell me anything.”

“Vera, go check on him,” Mom says, sounding exhausted. Vera gives my leg one last squeeze and stands up.

The doctor—Dr. Philman, her name tag says—interjects, “The patient that came in with her is getting the care he needs. Only immediate family can see him right now, like I’ve already told her.”

“He doesn’t have a family,” I sniffle. “He just has us.”

The doctor’s lips draw in a tight line. “I understand your concern for your friend, but I need to stabilize your arm and wrist before you injure it more.”

“I’ll go, honey,” Vera says. “Even if they don’t let me see him, I’ll be there.”

“Hurry,” I say, but when she pulls back the curtain again to step into the hallway, Ridley’s father is standing there, looking down at his phone.

“Mark?”

“Vera,” he sighs. “I don’t suppose you know where my son is, do you? My wife is very upset. Apparently, she got a call he was here.” He says it like it’s no big deal, like it’s a minor inconvenience, and if the doctor wasn’t holding my arm in place, I swear to god I would slap him.

“Your son?” Vera asks, and I can’t do this. Not now, when I just need to know he’s okay.

Ridley’s father glances up. “Don’t play dumb, Vera. Do you know what room he’s in?”

Vera and Mom turn back toward me, confusion covering their faces.