I stand, hands shaking. "I have to go." My words are slurred, panic-stricken.
"What's wrong?"
"My dad." The room blurs slightly and my knees become so weak I'm finding it hard to exit the room. "I don't know. Hospital. I have to go to the hospital."
"Right." Strong hands grip my arms, keeping me from crumbling. "Is your dad okay? Let me take you. You're in no condition to drive."
I want to tell him no. That I'll be fine. That I'm strong enough.
But that's a lie. So I nod and let him direct me downstairs to his car.
"Hurry," I say as I try to call my mom.
"You got it."
The tires squeal against the pavement as we back out of the driveway. Then Jake shifts his car into drive, and we shoot off down the road. Numbly, I realize we're going to get pulled over going this fast. But I don't care. I think back to earlier today. Dad had looked tired this morning, hadn't he? I'd noticed it. I should've said something. Forced him to go and take a rest. Beside me, Jake remains silent, jaw tight in grim determination.
"She's not answering," I say out loud, not expecting an answer.
"Keep trying."
Finally, on the third attempt, Mom picks up.
"Aria!" There's a frantic tone in her voice. She's always been the down-to-earth person in our family. Keeping Dad's and my wild ideas grounded. Calm and soothing, just like the plants she grows.
"Mom, what's going on? Is Dad okay?"
"I—I came home early. Needed to work in the greenhouse. I found him—" She chokes back a sob. "It was bad. You have to come. Emergency room."
She hangs up and slowly, I lower the phone to my lap.
"Oh, my god," I whisper, my chest tightening.
"We're pulling in now." Jake careens around a corner, driving up over the curb to pull into the emergency room drop-off.
I don't even wait for the car to stop before I open the door and stumble out. When I step inside the emergency room, I spot Mom in the waiting area on the right. She's sitting in one of the chairs, her knees tucked against her chest. Her hair, a lighter shade of red than mine, clings around her face. She's got her cross in her hand, twisting it about, her lips moving in silent prayer. She looks so young, so vulnerable that I almost don't even recognize her.
"Mom?" My feet slow as I grow closer to her.
Her eyes land on me, and instantly she lowers her feet to the floor and straightens. She holds out her hands to me saying, "Aria. You're here."
I hug her, and she wraps her arms around me tight, clinging to me like she might never let me go.
"You're safe," she says. "I was so worried."
"I'm fine. What happened? How is Dad?"
"I came home. The house was ransacked, and your dad... they beat him up..." A strangled cry comes out of her mouth, but she presses her fist to her lips as if to hold it in. Tears well up in her eyes, yet somehow she holds those back, too. "I don't know who they were or what they wanted. The police are looking into it now. Oh, um, hello."
She takes in Jake who is standing not far from us, leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest.
"That's Jake Sutherland. He's my study partner. Drove me over here. I was so worried... I couldn't drive."
"I'm so glad you didn't. Smart girl." She pats my cheeks and then drags her red hair out of her face, yanking it back into a makeshift bun. Despite her efforts, strands of her hair flutter about in rebellion. "I appreciate what you've done, Jake. Maybe we can come by sometime and pick her car up? Tomorrow maybe?"
"It's no biggie," Jake says as if he comes by the hospital every other day. "I'm happy to help. I hope your husband will be okay."
Before Mom has a chance to answer, a doctor comes over to us. "Mrs. Hale. Your husband is ready to see you."
"He's awake?" she asks. "Is he okay?"
"He's had a concussion, but his wounds are just superficial. We've got him bandaged up and he'll be bruised and sore for a while, but he's lucky."
I pause at Jake's side before following the doctor. "Thank you. You've got mad driving skills."
"Video games. They're good for something, I guess."
We stand awkwardly for a moment. Behind me, Mom is calling for me to hurry.
"I'll have Mom drop me off tomorrow to pick up my car. That okay with you?"
"Yeah, absolutely. But what else can I do? I feel like a jerk just leaving you here."
The strangest feeling rushes over me. A desperate need to reach up and touch his face. To throw my arms around him in a hug. Perhaps it's that feeling you get when someone comes to your aid and rescues you.
"I won't forget what you did," I choke out the words, tears edging the corners of my eyes.
I step closer and lightly touch his arm. He doesn't flinch or back away. Instead he reaches up as if he is going to touch a loose strand of my hair. But he stops suddenly and jerks backward.
My heart stutters.
Because that was the very same reaction he had in the dream.
I turn and run to my mom, heart pounding.