Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86808 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86808 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
“I’m painfully aware of it,” I drawl and throw a thumb over my shoulder. “I’m going to get back to Sylvie. I’ll text you an update when I know for sure she’s being discharged.”
“Appreciate it,” he says and turns to walk away.
CHAPTER 24
Ethan
Opening the back passenger door, I hold my hand out to Sylvie. She doesn’t need it but takes it anyway, sliding out of her seat. As we turn to the house, neither of us are surprised to see the entire Blackburn clan plus Marcie standing there.
I chased Marcie out of the hospital last night, forcing her to go home to rest. I kept everyone else updated throughout the day yesterday as the two specialists looked Sylvie over. Everything had returned to normal and they were stumped, although the cardiologist wants to see her in his office in two weeks. I pushed for a diagnosis and they didn’t have one, which has made everything very scary.
It means Sylvie may have an underlying condition they are yet to discover, and until such time that they figure it out, we have to wait with a black cloud over our heads, wondering if it will happen again. I’m not sure I’ll ever sleep knowing she’s at risk.
On the flip side, the doctors said it could have been an anomaly, perhaps caused by an undetectable virus or even dehydration. They pointed out that Sylvie perked right back up with fluids and a shot of epinephrine, which is nothing but adrenaline designed to get blood flowing. God, I fucking hope it’s that simple, but as her father, I’ve come to realize my greatest fear in life is losing my daughter and I’m not sure how to function with this unknown hanging over our heads.
Sylvie pulls free of my hand and runs up the front porch to accept hugs from everyone. Marcie stands off to the side, her concerned eyes pinned on me.
When I reach her, she says, “You look like hell, Ethan. I’m going to insist you take a shower and a nap. We’ll watch over Sylvie.”
“I need to check on some things—”
It’s my father who cuts in, clearly eavesdropping. “You’re not going to do a damn bit of work today. We’ve got all that covered. You’re going to rest—”
“I need to watch over Sylvie so—”
“We’ll handle Sylvie,” my mom says, motioning between herself and Marcie.
“But I need—”
“Dad,” Sylvie says, stepping into me and wrapping her arms around my waist. Her cheek goes to the bottom of my chest. “You look like hell. I’m fine and you need to rest.”
“Language,” I say, my hand coming up to stroke the top of her head. “But… I suppose since you’re the one insisting, I’ll have to comply. But you have to rest as well.”
“I’ve been in a bed for two days,” she says, tipping her head back to grin at me. “I’m ready to run a marathon.”
Fear spikes through me because running could induce a heart attack. “No running. No doing anything strenuous.”
Sylvie rolls her eyes. “The doctor just told me to take it easy for a few days, so I’m not going to stay in bed.”
“Fine, fine,” I grumble and then jerk my head to the door. “Let’s go inside. I’ll concede my work duties, let Mom and Marcie keep an eye over you and gladly go take a shower. But I’m not napping. Maybe we can watch a movie together.”
Marcie and Sylvie share a knowing look, and Sylvie says, “I bet he’s asleep in fifteen minutes.”
“Ten,” Marcie counters, and everyone laughs.
We all troop inside, and my dad, Kat, Trey and Wade offer immediate goodbyes and walk out through the back kitchen door where their farm vehicles await. They’re going to head off, under my dad’s direction to split my duties, and I know the farm is in good hands. Maybe it is time to start sharing some of the business side of things as Marcie suggested.
“I’ll put together some snacks,” my mom says. “Ethan to the shower, and Sylvie… you should take one as well.”
“Gladly,” she says with a grimace. “I smell like hospital.”
“I’ll help you in the kitchen, Fi,” Marcie says, and she and my mom head that way.
Sylvie and I make for the staircase, but there’s a knock at the door. “I’ll get it,” I say to anyone listening and pat Sylvie’s shoulder. “Go shower. I’ll meet you in the den for a full day of movies and junk food.”
“Sounds great,” she says, and I grit my teeth as she bounds up the stairs with all the energy of an almost-ten-year-old who was not just in the hospital after nearly dying.
I watch until she’s out of sight, marveling at her resilience and wishing I had half of hers, before turning to the door. When I open it, a man and a woman stand there, both in their mid-thirties. The woman has her blond hair pulled back into a low ponytail and is wearing a pair of black dress pants, sensible shoes and a white blouse. The man, whose hair is buzzed short all over, has on gray slacks and a polo shirt with the Shelbyville County Sheriff’s Department logo over his left pec. My eyes cut back to the woman—her shield is clipped to the front of her belt.