reticent

72

• XANDER •

When the nurse leaves us outside of Amalia's room, I turn around quickly and open the door, performing each action hastily because I'm too afraid I'll pussy out and drive home.

I walk in, eyes immediately landing on my dad. His arm stretches beneath the covers, where Amalia's pops out. I glance over at her, a tsunami of relief drowning my fear. I smile, making my steps less heavy because she's sleeping, and I don't want to wake her.

"Hey." My father says quietly. "You guys okay?"

I nod.

"Yeah." Cole says, moving to sit on the end of Amalia's bed. He sets his crutches on the floor as a sigh of contentment leaves his lips. He leans his head on the white wall behind him, slowly titling it to look at our sister, like he's mentally preparing himself.

"Is she okay?" Grayson asks, stepping forward. Elijah stays back, a nervous look on his face, and I send him a reassuring smile that he quickly looks away from.

Our father sighs. "She won't talk."

I tense.

"She's been in bed since she first came here. That's what they told me." My dad tells us.

"I knew if she came here it'd only make her worse." I speak up. "She needs to come home, not stay in this shit hole."

     "I'm not allowed to take her back until they say she's stable enough." He replies.

     Cole rolls his eyes. "So? Clearly it's not helping her to be in here if she's not getting out of bed. We're only allowed to visit for, like, half the day, and the rest of it she'll be with strangers. Like that old cranky woman who was at the front desk. Do you want Amalia to be stuck with her all day?"

     Our father sighs. "I don't know how to help her."

"Then learn. We all will." Grayson tells him.

"And Mason will be happy, since he isn't allowed to move around much yet. Amalia will be able to go to him. He misses her." Elijah adds softly.

Amalia halts the conversation when a small, pained sound escapes her lips. Her eyes open, but exhaustion continues to weigh them down. I tilt my head, concern furrowing my brows.

"Lia." My dad whispers. She closes her eyes and reopens them when she's facing him. He smiles at her. "Hi, sweetheart. Look who's here."

She looks over at us, stiffening immediately. The gladness and recognition I expected to see in her eyes couldn't be farther from the worry that fills them instead.

I step closer to her, sitting beside her on the bed. She watches me carefully. "Hi, darling."

Her eyes water, and sympathy blooms in my chest. I notice her small fingers tighten around our fathers hand, and the pity slowly morphs into confusion.

     "Amalia," I say hopefully, "how are you feeling?"

She frowns deeply, her bottom lip wobbling. From the simple detail alone, I can tell that she's about to cry.