I squeeze my eyes shut, as if I were a child making a wish. If only I had woken up and all this was a dream. I know what I want to say, but the words won’t leave my mouth. I focus on my breathing, counting in for four and out for eight. My heartbeat slows and I open my eyes. Please, don’t make me say it.

“They have him in a room, he has been cleaned up so that when Marie arrives she can go and see him.” He hesitates for a moment before continuing, “Do you want me to take you?”

“Marie.” Her name tastes bitter on my tongue, and Tanner nods.

“The police came around earlier to speak with us, you were still asleep. They said we could go into the station tomorrow, once you have been discharged. They sent someone to Marie’s home to speak with her and I believe they are going to drive her in.”

The information filters through my mind. Marie, Police — my dad. “Dad,” I announce out loud. “— my dad. Tanner, is my dad alive?”

So much has happened, most of which I hoped was a nightmare to wake up from, but this is something I never could have imagined. Our encounter was brief, and I wasn’t able to acknowledge him properly with my attention focused on Jesse, but he was there nonetheless.

Tanner moves to sit up on the bed next to me, shuffling me into his arms. I rub my temple as he kisses the top of my head. “Yeah, Kins. Your dad is alive. He was here earlier but he had to leave with the Police to make a statement; he was checked over first before they took him. I think he will be stuck down at the station for a few hours.”

“W-what happened to —” A nurse enters the room, interrupting me.

“Sorry to interrupt, but there is a Mrs Fernandez here to see you,” the nurse says, pain laced in her voice. Word would have travelled throughout the hospital about what has happened.

Words fail me. My body begins to shake, my teeth chatter and sweat builds on my palms. How can I face her right now? Multiple what if’s race around in my mind, the biggest one being … What if she blames me?

Tanner acknowledges the nurse, and then Marie slowly enters the room. Even with bloodshot puffy eyes she tries to smile; always our pillar of strength. She walks towards us, her eyes drifting over my body — she’s making sure I’m safe. The woman who has just lost her son is standing before me and hiding all emotion to ensure my safety.