“No statement.”

“How’s the girl?”

“Don’t know. She was still out when I was there. I’ll call today to check up on her. Any press?”

“Some. The usual news outlets, that’s all.”

I sighed, hoping they’d at least leave Grace alone. “Okay. Keep me updated.”

“I will. You do the same.”

“Okay. Thanks, Kate.”

We hung up, and after a moment I picked up the phone to check my voice mail. Five messages, all from Kate, and one from the guy I’d been on my way to meet in San Diego. I called and left him a message explaining what had happened, then showered and dressed and called the hospital on a whim. Someone must have put in a good word for me, because they told me she was still unconscious, but stable. I felt myself relax with the news.

I spent the next two days nursing a whiplashed neck and buying a new car. News of the accident got around, and calls from Todd, Carl, and others kept my phone busy. Wednesday I called again; no change, call again tomorrow. When I did, my persistence was rewarded: she was awake, and she was taking visitors. I took my new car for a little drive down the I-5.

The hospital looked less busy during the day than it had the night I’d been there. I walked up toward the main lobby and stopped short. Could I really just waltz into her room? What was I going to say once I got in there? “Hi, I’m Jack, I’m the guy you hit.” I didn’t want her to feel guilty. “Hi, I’m Jack, how are you doing?” Awful, obviously; there was no point in asking that. So why was I here?

To make sure she was still living and breathing and okay. I needed to see her myself to dispel once and for all my fear at the possibility of another life lost in my arms.

And I wanted to warn her about the press. I didn’t know if they’d try to talk to her, but there was no telling whether they would or not, and I didn’t want it to scare her or come as a surprise. I hoped they hadn’t contacted her yet.

It was chilly out, wet from the light rain; I’d forgotten my jacket and needed something to warm me up. I stopped in to the cafeteria and bought a coffee. I held it tightly and sat down at a small round table in the corner, staring out from under my baseball cap into the hall as doctors and nurses and visitors walked back and forth.