The Speed of Light: A Novel(74)

I won’t ever be free of this disease, of what it might do to my body, my mind. I won’t be free of fear, or worry about the future. I can’t control what cards fate deals me, but I can choose how I play them.

Today, I chose to keep living.

Somehow from deep within, the words Danielle said to me after the race that day come back to me: If you love someone, they’re never a burden. You take care of them no matter what.

Maybe Connor and I can take care of each other.

Maybe it’s not too late for us.



At the hospital, I’m rushed into a room, and fatigue rears forward as a flurry of nurses descend on me with blood-pressure cuffs, monitors, and questions, so many questions.

“The woman brought in with me,” I finally manage to say, grimacing as a nurse with gray hair and kind eyes inserts the IV needle into my arm. “How is she?”

Her smile is sympathetic. “We can’t release information on other patients, dear.”

I huff, then try my next pressing concern. “Well, can I at least have my phone?”

“We’ve already contacted your family. They’re on their way.”

My family. For a moment everything is overshadowed as I picture my terrified parents flying down the interstate at a hundred miles per hour. “Oh God.”

“Shh, dear, just rest, okay? We’re going to take good care of you.”

And I finally listen, at last succumbing to the fatigue.



When I wake, my parents and Emmett are standing around my hospital bed. “Mom.” My voice is thick with sleep and emotion, and she leans forward, red faced and puffy eyed, showering me with kisses. She doesn’t let me go, and I half expect her to crawl in with me.

Dad places a hand on my arm, clenching his jaw in that way he does when he’s trying to hold in any show of emotion, but his eyes well up. Even Emmett takes my hand. He looks gaunt. “Love ya, sis,” he whispers.

“I love you guys.” My eyes blur. I’m overwhelmed, and for a moment I just let them hold me, surround me in the protective, loving cocoon of family. Then I pull myself up so I’m sitting. “Nikki?”

“She’s okay, sweetie,” Mom murmurs. “Claudia texted to say she’s out of surgery and stable. She’s recovering in the ICU.”

Oh thank God. My shoulders sag in relief, but still my eyes plead, and finally Emmett nods. “I’ll take you up there.”

I get up, grateful, and take his arm. “We’ll let your nurses know,” Mom says. “I want to talk to your doctor anyway.”

I nod, relieved, as we walk out into the hallway, then dart another glance at my brother. “Did you . . . did you hear anything about the shooting?”

He winces, doesn’t look over. “Yeah.”

I take a deep breath. “How many . . . ?”

Emmett pauses, glances over as if deliberating, then stares ahead again. “Five confirmed,” he mumbles. “So far.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, my stomach heaving. Chet. Stan. Charlene. The poor man upstairs. And Hayley. Oh, Hayley.

“You okay?” Emmett asks, tightening his hold on my arm, and I nod, force a sad smile as we continue our slow procession through the hospital.

When we reach Nikki’s room, I take a deep breath, brace myself, but my knees still buckle when I see her lying there, all tubes and beeping monitor, so frail. Claudia turns when we walk in, and her face crumples. She rushes over and we’re hugging tight, crying. We stand like that for a long time before she pulls back, wiping her eyes.

“How is she?” I ask quietly.

“She’s going to be okay. Surgery went well. The doctor says she needs to rest now.”

From behind us, a small voice calls out: “I need a fucking drink is what I need.”

We chuckle, and I walk over to her bedside, take her hand. “Hey, Nik.”

Her eyes are slits, but she smiles. “Hey.”

Emmett clears his throat from the doorway. “Uh, I’m gonna go down and get something out of the vending machine in the waiting room.”

Claudia takes a shuddering breath. “And I think I’ll go grab a coffee. You two okay?”

I nod, and after the door whooshes shut behind them, I turn to my best friend. We stare at each other, eyes brimming, until she speaks. “Hayley?”

I shake my head. “She saved us.”

Nikki’s face crumples. I grab a tissue from the box sitting by her bed, then dab at her eyes carefully. We sit in silence for a long time, mourning this life cut unbelievably short, this incredible gift we’ve been given. Finally Nikki slides her hand into mine and squeezes. “Thanks for coming back for me.”

“You would’ve done the same. You’ve stayed with me through this entire past year.” I take a deep breath. “And I actually think it’s about time you left. You and Claudia.”

Her brow furrows. “What?”

I will myself to have the strength to say this. “You need to go to Minneapolis.” My voice breaks. “Life is short. No day but today.”

Her lip quivers. Then she opens her eyes wider, as if she’s trying hard to peer into mine, make sure she sees me clearly. “Will you be okay?”

I sit up straighter. For the first time in a long time, I am sure of the answer. “Yes.”