Between The Lines

Chapter 142: Flashbacks

Lane's POV (1st Person):

We sat there in the waiting room, the hum of hospital lights above us, the sterile smell filling the air, and the distant sounds of nurses going about their duties echoing in the hallway. I tried to keep my mind from wandering too far, but when the nurse came back and called us in, something shifted inside me.

The memory hit me before I even had the chance to brace for it.

Hospitals.

It wasn't the same place, not even close, but the walls, the sterile atmosphere, the sharp tang of antiseptic—it was all the same. I swallowed hard, my throat tightening as I stood up, following the nurse as she led us down the hall. Rebecca walked beside me, a few steps ahead, her focus entirely on the little girl. I kept my eyes on her, needing something to anchor me in the present, but it was like the past had already taken hold.

My mother.

I clenched my jaw, trying to shove the memories back, but they flooded in anyway. That hospital room, her frail figure lying in bed, hooked up to machines, the way she looked at me like she knew it would be the last time. The fear in my chest, the helplessness.

I had hated feeling that way—helpless.

The nurse's voice pulled me back to the present as she stopped in front of a room, gesturing for us to enter. "She's stable, but we're still running a few tests. You can see her now."

Rebecca glanced at me, concern etched on her face. "Are you okay?"

I forced a smile, nodding. "Yeah, I'm fine. Let's go see her."

But I wasn't fine. Not even close.

As we stepped into the room, I kept my gaze focused on the little girl lying in the bed. She was hooked up to a couple of machines, nothing too serious, but seeing the wires and monitors brought back that familiar pang of dread.

I felt Rebecca squeeze my hand, and I glanced down at her. Her eyes were soft, worried. She could always read me too well, even when I was trying to put on a brave face.

"I'm okay," I muttered, squeezing her hand back. I didn't want her to see me like this, not now.

But the memories kept crashing over me, one after another. My mother's pale hand in mine, her whispered words, her telling me to be strong. I had been so young, so powerless. There was nothing I could do to save her, and I'd hated that feeling more than anything.

Helpless.

I stared at the little girl in the bed, her face so peaceful despite everything that had happened. Rebecca moved to the side of the bed, smoothing the girl's hair out of her face, her expression softening with that natural maternal instinct she had. She was good at this—at caring. And it made me love her even more.

But me? I was just standing there, trying not to drown in memories.

"Lane?"

Rebecca's voice cut through my thoughts, and I blinked, realizing she was looking at me. "Yeah?"

She gave me that look, the one that said she knew something was wrong, but she wasn't going to push me on it right now. "Are you sure you're okay?"

I nodded again, forcing the words out. "I'm fine."

She didn't look convinced, but she turned her attention back to the girl, and I was grateful for the moment of reprieve. I couldn't let this get to me. Not now.

I stepped closer, standing at the foot of the bed, watching the steady rise and fall of the girl's chest. I tried to focus on the present, on the fact that this kid was going to be okay. But no matter how hard I tried, those old memories wouldn't leave me alone.