A car horn blared, and Jax jumped in her seat. She had been sitting at a green light for who knew how long. She accelerated quickly, screeching her tires. She hit the next three red lights, and she started to think about karma by the fourth. A potent mixture of relief and fear hit just as she pulled into the hospital parking lot. She took the first spot she could find, not caring about fines or towing.

Jax ran to the front door of the Emergency Room and argued with the automatic revolving door. It wasn’t moving fast enough. She squeezed her body through the small opening as soon as she could and stumbled to the front desk.

“I’m looking for Gretchen Mills? She was airlifted from…” She racked her brain. “South Shore! She should be here.” The desk clerk started typing. Jax watched through the double doors as doctors rushed about. Very few people occupied the waiting room, and she didn’t understand why she was still waiting. “Where is she?”

“I need a photo ID for all visitors.”

Jax wanted to scream at the miserable old man. “Is she here?”

“Proper identification, name, and relation, please.”

Jax breathed in deeply through her nose. She forced herself to understand this idiotic man was just doing his job. She pulled her wallet from her pocket and took out her driver’s license. She dropped it on the counter in front of him. “Jax Levine. I’m her wife.”

He looked at her over his reading glasses. Without another word, he copied her license and printed out a visitor’s pass. “She’s back with the doctors now. Have a seat in the waiting room. Hang on to that pass. It’s only good for twenty-four hours.”

She sat in the nearest chair, bouncing her leg to release some of her anxious energy. She had to believe she wasn’t allowed to see Gretchen for a good reason. She had seen enough medical dramas to know the trauma center was no place for a visitor. She looked around at her company.

A young woman sat against the far wall and thumbed through a People magazine. Her face was passive, not concerned or panicked. Down at the far end of Jax’s row of chairs was an older gentleman twiddling his thumbs. Seated directly across from Jax was a woman who couldn’t be much older than her. She looked more worried than the rest combined. She held a child against her. Jax assumed they were mother and daughter.

Again, Jax thought of Caleb. She didn’t know whether bringing him to the hospital would do more harm than good. Maybe she should ask her partner in suffering. Were they there for the kid’s other parent or for themselves? Jax scanned each face again, and the discomfort of being in a hospital started to fully set in. She stood and started to pace. Jax wanted to leave the waiting area, but she was afraid to go too far. She turned at the sound of the double doors opening. She stared at the young doctor expectantly.