The Bad Daughter(51)

“I’m okay,” Cassidy said. “Everything’s still pretty sore, and sometimes it hurts to take a deep breath. But the doctor says I should be able to go home in a couple of days.”

“So soon?” Melanie asked. “Is that wise?”

“The doctor says that the faster I get back to my normal routine, the better.”

“Of course, she’ll have to take it easy for a little while,” Robin elaborated.

“Of course,” Melanie said. Her lips curled into a stiff smile. “You can have your old room back. Robin and Blake are moving to a hotel.”

“Oh, no. Please,” Cassidy said, her eyes widening in panic. “You can’t do that.”

“It’s getting a little crowded,” Melanie said. “And they’d have to move into my old room across the hall, which is much smaller—”

“I’ll take the smaller room,” Cassidy offered quickly. “Please. You have to stay,” she begged Robin.

Robin glanced at Blake, and both of them simultaneously nodded their assent.

“Then it’s settled.” Cassidy turned from Robin to her stepfather. “And when you get better, Daddy, you can come home, too. You can have your old room back.”

Robin watched Melanie’s jaw tense. She wasn’t sure whether this was due to Cassidy’s continued use of the word “daddy” or the thought of having to relinquish the master bedroom.

“I think we’re getting a little ahead of ourselves,” Melanie said. “Even if Dad regains consciousness, the doctors aren’t optimistic…”

“I don’t understand,” Cassidy interrupted. “If he regains consciousness, doesn’t that mean he’s getting better?” Cassidy’s gaze bounced frantically around the room. “Doesn’t it?”

“Hopefully, yes,” Blake told her.

“He’s suffered grievous injuries,” Melanie said.

“?‘Grievous’…What does that mean?” Cassidy asked.

“It means that whether or not he regains consciousness, we shouldn’t get our hopes up.”

“He has to get better.” Cassidy spun back toward her stepfather. “You have to get better, Daddy. Please. You’re all I have left.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Robin said, taking Cassidy in her arms.

Cassidy collapsed against Robin, her legs weakening, so that Robin was virtually holding her up. “They killed my mommy,” she cried, her voice disappearing into Robin’s curls. “Daddy can’t die. He can’t leave me.”

“I’m sure he’s doing everything in his power to get better,” Robin said.

“He’s made it this far,” Blake added. “And from what little I know about him, if anyone can survive this, he can.”

“That’s true,” Melanie conceded. “I just think it’s a mistake to cling to false hope.”

“Sometimes hope is all we’ve got,” Robin said, kissing Cassidy’s forehead. “Maybe we should get you back in bed.”

“No. I want to stay here.” Cassidy backed slowly out of Robin’s arms, fresh resolve straightening her shoulders. “Daddy?” She reached over the bed’s handrail to take his hand in hers. “It’s me, Cassidy. I’m here. And the doctors say I’m going to be fine. But I need you, Daddy. I need you to wake up.” She looked back at Robin. “He’s cold. He needs more covers.”

Robin looked around the room, locating a lightweight cotton blanket in the closet. She tucked it around her father’s legs, watching as Cassidy drew it up toward his chin.

“That’s better,” the child said. “Isn’t it, Daddy? You’re warmer now.” She looked back at Melanie. “Where’s Landon?”

“He’s at home.”

“He should be here. Daddy should be surrounded by the people he loves.”

“I’m not sure that would be such a good idea,” Melanie protested. “You know Landon’s behavior can be a bit…unpredictable.”

“I know that Landon loves Daddy and Daddy loves him.”

Melanie’s skepticism registered on her face. “Maybe so, but…”

“He said he thought Landon had come a really long way, that you’d done an awesome job with him.”

“He told you that?” Tears sprang to Melanie’s eyes. Quickly, she turned aside, swiping at them with the back of her hand. “What else did he say?”

“Just that he loved you.”

Wow, Robin thought.

“Wow,” Melanie echoed out loud. Then, her voice a whisper: “If only he’d said that to me.”

“He will,” Cassidy said. “When he wakes up.” She squeezed her stepfather’s hand. “I love you, Daddy. We all do.”

Robin held her breath, half-expecting her father to summon up all his inner strength and shout out in his booming voice, “I love you, too.” But he didn’t.

He never had.

She pictured her brother, saw the lingering hurt in his eyes at their father’s betrayal, and felt the rage behind it. Had he been angry enough to kill?

Where are you, Alec? What were you doing in Red Bluff the night of the shootings?