Chapter 1
Alexandra recognized Kit half a second too late.
He was already on his feet when she and Ivy came through the hospital doors. His dark blond curls were flattened on one side from too many hours in the same chair. His face had lost the last of its teenage softness without becoming hard, and exhaustion had drained the color from his cheeks. Alex could not quite fit the height, the broader shoulders, or the adult shape of his face over the teenage boy she remembered. Then he was simply Kit again: exhausted, waiting for news about his father.
“Alex.”
“Kit.”
Ivy’s fingers tightened around hers. Alex didn’t stop.
“How is he?”
“Still in surgery.”
Kit’s voice was low and flat. His phone was clenched in one hand. A bottle of water sat unopened on the chair behind him. He looked toward the double doors at the end of the corridor, then back again. Outside, someone had called Alex’s name. At first, the voice had been tentative.
“Alexandra?”
She had kept walking. Then another voice had followed.
“Ms. Hope—do you have an update on Adrian?”
That one had made Ivy look up. Alex had moved her hand from Ivy’s shoulder to the back of her head and guided her through the entrance without answering. More than five years out of the news was long enough for most people to forget her face. It was not long enough for everyone, especially on a day when reporters had spent the morning searching Adrian’s name. A camera had shifted toward Ivy.
Alex turned her daughter slightly toward her as the doors closed behind them, swallowing most of the noise from outside. Her eyes moved past Kit. Simone, Adrian’s ex-wife, stood near the windows. That recognition required no adjustment. Her hair was shorter than Alex remembered. There were fine lines at the corners of her eyes now. She wore dark trousers, a sweater, and a coat she had apparently never bothered to take off. For a moment, she and Alex simply looked at each other.
Then Simone saw Ivy. Ivy went very still. Alex could feel the question forming before her daughter asked it. Simone spoke first.
“Hi, Ivy.”
Ivy looked up at Alex. Alex pressed her thumb once against the back of Ivy’s hand.
“Hi,” Ivy said.
Simone nodded. Alex was grateful. A woman from Adrian’s management team appeared from farther down the corridor. Alex recognized her face but not her name.
“They’re still operating,” she said.
Kit turned immediately. “Nothing changed?”
“Nothing yet.”
His jaw shifted before he looked back at the doors. The woman lowered her voice. “There are more press outside now. We’ve released a short statement confirming he was injured and is being treated. Nothing beyond that.” Alex asked, “Ivy’s name?”
“Not in the statement.”
“Keep it that way.”
“We will.”
Ivy pulled at her hand.
“Can I see Dad?”
“Not yet.”
“Why?”
“He’s still with the doctors.”
“Is he awake?”
“No.”
“When will he wake up?”
Alex hesitated.
“I don’t know.”
Ivy’s face tightened. She looked at Kit. He had been watching the doors again.
“When will he wake up?” she asked him.
Kit looked at her. For a second Alex thought he might give her something easier. He didn’t.
“I don’t know.”
Ivy lowered her eyes. Kit did too. No one tried to improve the answer. They sat. Kit kept his phone in one hand, but Alex rarely saw him do anything with it. Every time the double doors opened, his head lifted before anyone else moved. Simone barely moved at all. Her phone rested in her lap. Her coat stayed on. Alex sat with Ivy pressed against her side and answered the same questions in slightly different forms. Was the car very broken? Yes. Did Dad know they were here? Probably not yet.
Would he know later? Alex said yes before she could stop herself. Ivy accepted that answer. Alex did not examine it too closely. Her own phone vibrated several times. A message from Beth, Harbor House’s general manager:
Everything here is covered. Don’t come in. I’ll send you anything that actually needs you.
A second message followed.
And I mean actually needs you.
Alex stared at it for a moment, then typed:
Thank you.
There were messages from friends. Two unknown numbers. One reporter whose name she vaguely remembered from when Ivy was born. She turned the phone face down. The waiting room television was showing weather with the sound off. A cart squeaked past twice. Somewhere behind the doors, a phone rang and rang until someone answered it. Ivy eventually fell asleep against Alex’s shoulder. Alex shifted carefully so she wouldn’t wake her. When she looked up again, Kit was standing by the windows. His back was to them.
He had both hands braced on the sill. Simone watched him for a few seconds. She didn’t call him back. Neither did Alex. The surgeon came out a little after four. This time Kit didn’t just stand. He crossed half the waiting area before the man had finished pulling down his mask. Simone followed. Alex woke Ivy and brought her with them.
“The surgery is finished,” the surgeon said.
Nobody breathed.
“We were able to control the bleeding. He has several significant injuries, and we’re watching the head injury very closely. The next twenty-four to forty-eight hours still matter.”
Kit said, “But he made it through.”
“Yes.”
“Is he stable?”
“Right now, yes.”
Alex felt Ivy’s whole body move against hers. The surgeon kept talking—fractures, monitoring, more imaging, a recovery that would take time if everything continued to go well. Kit interrupted only once.
“When will he wake up?”
“We’ll know more as the medication wears off.”
Kit nodded once. He did not quite look relieved, but some of the rigid tension left his shoulders. Ivy looked at Alex.
“Stable means he’s okay?”
“It means he got through the surgery.”
“That’s good?”
“Yes.”
This time Alex could say it.
“Yes. That’s good.”
The surgeon left them with a nurse, who explained that it would be a while before anyone could go in. Once Adrian was settled and the team was ready, they would keep the first visits brief.
“Julian?” she said, looking at Kit.
“Kit.”
“Kit. We have your number. Will you be staying here?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. We’ll come and get you.” She turned to Alex and Ivy. “And you’re his family too?”
“I’m his daughter,” Ivy said.
The nurse’s expression softened. “What’s your name?”
“Ivy.”
“She’s five,” Alex added.
“I’ll check with the team about bringing her in. It may be better to wait a little longer.”
Alex nodded. Ivy leaned against her, listening.
“And you’re…?”
“I’m Ivy’s mother.”
Alex could feel Simone beside her as she said it. Once, she would have had more to add.
“All right. You’ll need to stay with her if she goes in.”
“Of course.”
The nurse glanced at Kit. “Let us know if you move from this waiting area.”
He nodded.
The nurse moved away. For the first time since Alex had walked into the hospital, no one was asking them to do anything. Kit sat down again. He leaned forward, forearms on his knees, and covered his face with both hands. After a moment, he dropped them. Ivy rested her head against Alex’s arm. Simone finally took off her coat.
Adrian was alive. For now, that was enough.
