One of Us Is Next(85)
Hi Derek, it’s Phoebe. Call me.
I leave the room, still feeling groggy, and find Emma’s nurse waiting for me in the hallway. “Where’s my mom?” I ask.
“Took your brother home to bed. There’s a sitter coming, and she’ll be back once he’s settled,” the nurse says.
A clock in the hallway reads ten fifteen, and the floor is quiet except for the muted conversation of three nurses clustered around the central desk. “Someone needs to clear those kids out of the waiting room,” one of them says.
“I think they’re all in shock,” says another.
The woman who gave me the water makes a clucking noise as she leans her forearms on the counter surrounding the desk. “This town is going to hell in a handbasket. Kids dying, bombs going off—”
“What?” I almost choke on my water. “A bomb? What are you talking about?”
“Tonight,” the nurse says. “At a wedding rehearsal dinner, of all things. There was a homemade explosive device planted by some disturbed young man.”
“Aren’t they all,” another nurse says coldly.
My skin prickles, nerves jumping. “Wedding rehearsal? In Bayview? Was it—” I grab my phone out of my pocket to check for new texts, but before I can, one of the nurses says, “Talia’s Restaurant.”
I drop my cup with a loud clatter, sending water splashing across the floor. I start shaking from head to toe, practically vibrating, and the nurse closest to me takes hold of my shoulders, speaking quickly. “I’m so sorry, we should have realized you might know people there. It’s all right, someone got the bomb off the premises before it could do significant damage. Only one boy had more than superficial injuries—”
“Are they here?” I look wildly around me, as though my friends might be right around the corner and I just hadn’t noticed them yet.
The nurse lets go of my shoulders and picks up my discarded cup. “There’s a group in the waiting room closest to the ER downstairs.”
I take off for the stairs before she can say anything else, my sneakers pounding against the linoleum. I know exactly where to go; I sat in that waiting room last night after the EMTs brought Emma in. It’s one floor down, and when I push through the stairwell door into the hallway I’m immediately hit with a buzzing noise, much louder than upstairs. Several scrub-clad people are standing with their arms folded in front of Liz Rosen from Channel Seven, who looks camera-ready in a sharp red suit and perfect makeup. “No media beyond this point,” a man says as I slip behind them.
The waiting room is packed, standing room only. My heart squeezes at the sight of so many people I know, looking more devastated than I’ve ever seen them. Bronwyn, her face stained with tears and her pretty red dress torn, is sitting between her mother and a middle-aged woman I don’t recognize. Cooper and Kris are holding hands next to Addy, who’s hunched forward and gnawing on her cuticles. Luis is on Addy’s other side with Maeve on his lap, and he’s holding her while she slumps motionless against his shoulder, eyes closed. Her right arm is wrapped in a white gauze bandage. I don’t see Ashton, or Eli, or Knox anywhere.
Only one boy had more than superficial injuries…
I pick my way toward Maeve first, my throat tight with worry. “Is she okay?” I whisper.
“Fine,” Luis says. “Sleeping. She crashed ten minutes ago.” His arms tighten around her. “Long night.”
“A nurse upstairs told me about the bomb.” Saying the word out loud doesn’t make it any less surreal. “What happened?”
Addy runs a hand over her face. “How much time do you have?”
Kris gets to his feet and gestures to his chair. “Here, have a seat. I need the restroom. Anybody want a drink or anything else while I’m up?”
“I’d kill for a Diet Coke,” Addy says wearily. Kris circles the room taking additional requests as I drop into his chair.
“Is Knox okay?” I ask anxiously. “Why isn’t he here?”
“He’s fine,” Addy says, and I exhale with relief. “The hero of the night, in fact, along with this one.” She reaches over to lightly stroke Maeve’s arm. “He, Ash, and Eli are talking to the police. Maeve was supposed to go too, but she conked out and they said to let her rest. Knox can give them the whole story, I guess. They were together all night.”
I file that away. “Who’s hurt? The nurse said someone was hurt,” I say, glancing around the room and trying to catalog who’s missing. “Is it—”
My eyes catch sight of Bronwyn’s distraught face again right before Addy says, “Nate.” I gasp and she quickly adds, “He’s going to be all right, they say. It’s just—he and Bronwyn were closest to the bomb when it exploded. He was basically a human shield over her, so he took the brunt of it.” She reaches up a hand to twist one of her small gold earrings. “It was…do you remember the Boston Marathon bombing? How it was this pressure cooker thing with nails and stuff inside?” I manage to nod, even though I can’t believe we’re actually having a conversation in the middle of the Bayview Memorial Hospital waiting room about bomb techniques. “Same type of thing. They were pretty far away, thank God, but Nate’s arm is kind of torn up, so they have to remove…”