Christine's brother John made the first call quietly, reaching out only to a few key people to let them know she had been admitted to the hospital. The diagnosis wasn't shared in full, but he made one thing very clear: visitors were discouraged. Christine was unwell, exhausted, and needed rest. The band would be informed of updates, but for now, the request was to wait.No one liked that.When Stevie got the call—mid-morning at home, barefoot in the kitchen wearing one of her old shawls—her stomach dropped. Karen was there with her, pouring tea, and the look on Stevie's face said it all."What?" Karen asked.Stevie didn't answer immediately. She held the phone to her chest. "It's about Christine."Karen snatched the phone from her, pressing it to her ear. She listened intently, face tightening. As soon as she hung up, she fired off a text to Sharon: **"Call me. Urgent. Christine."**Sharon saw the message while in the middle of organizing vinyl at home. She immediately rang Karen, who relayed everything. Sharon, rattled, hung up and messaged Marilyn: **"Christine's sick. In hospital. No visitors allowed yet. Sit tight."**Marilyn, who was in the middle of making a sandwich, felt her appetite vanish. She told her road daughter Ali, the band's longtime tour coordinator. Ali, alarmed, picked up her phone and called Becca, a crew member and close friend.Becca then passed it to MaryElle—Stevie's friend Mary's daughter—who was already pacing by the time she called Eilynn, Stevie's makeup artist.By mid-afternoon, the news made it to Krystal, Christine's hair and makeup stylist—who also happened to be Jenn's sister.Krystal didn't even blink. She picked up the phone and called Jenn.---Jenn was halfway through folding laundry when the call came in. She answered casually, "Hey, what's up?"Krystal's voice was tight. "Have you heard about Christine?"Jenn froze. "No. What happened?""She's in the hospital. Something about pneumonia. I don't know the details—they're trying to keep it quiet. Her brother's asking people not to visit, but... I thought you'd want to know."Jenn didn't respond. She was already grabbing her keys.---She spent the next two hours calling every hospital in Christine's region. One by one, she asked, calmly and convincingly, to speak to her mother. Eventually, one receptionist hesitated just long enough, and Jenn slipped into character like second nature."I'm her daughter. I just need her room number. Please."Once she got it, she made a reservation at a nearby hotel and boarded the next available flight.She didn't tell Krystal. Didn't tell anyone. If Christine's brother John was going to be difficult, she wasn't about to risk him intercepting her before she could see Christine herself.---The next morning, Jenn stood in the hospital lobby, heart pounding, clutching her visitor's pass when she spotted a familiar figure."John?" she called.John turned around, wearing dark sunglasses and looking road-weary. "Jenn? What are you doing here?""I could ask you the same thing.""When I heard the news about Chris, I couldn't stay away," he said. "John told me to wait. I told him, fuck it, I'm coming anyway."Jenn smirked. "Krystal told me last night. I hopped a plane."John smiled at her, eyes tired. "Well, go on up. Just... be prepared. She doesn't look great."Jenn nodded, then made her way up the elevator, her heart thudding harder with each passing floor.---She knocked softly, poking her head into the room. A nurse was giving Christine her IV meds. The nurse glanced over and smiled. "Looks like you've got a visitor."Christine turned her head slowly, preparing to protest—until she saw who it was. Her face lit up."Jenn? What are you doing here?"Jenn stepped in, closing the door behind her. "Krystal told me. You didn't think I'd stay away, did you?"Once the nurse left, Jenn grinned and said, "Move over. Make room for my skinny ass."Christine gave a hoarse laugh, shifting weakly. "Bossy.""Of course."Jenn climbed into the bed beside her, fitting herself into the narrow space, careful of the IV line. Christine's head leaned against her shoulder.They talked softly for a while until Christine's eyes drifted shut. Jenn stayed still, letting her boss rest, brushing a gentle hand over her arm now and then.---An hour later, the door creaked open again. Jenn assumed it was a nurse—until she heard a man's voice."What are you doing here?"It was John.Jenn didn't even flinch. "She's my boss. I'd fly halfway across the world for her. You honestly thought you could tell everyone to stay away and I'd just sit tight?"He looked past her to his sister—sleeping more peacefully than she had in days.After a beat, he sighed. "You can stay. Hell, if Christine's okay with it, you might as well crash at her place. Save the hotel money."Jenn raised an eyebrow. "You serious?"He nodded. "You like cream and sugar in your coffee?"Jenn blinked, then smiled. "I drink it the same way your sister does."He chuckled. "Figures. I'll go grab you one. You look like you need it."---When he returned, Christine was awake.He handed over the cup and said gently, "I told Jenn she can stay at your place instead of wasting money on a hotel. That okay?"Christine nodded. "She's always welcome."Jenn smiled. "Thanks, boss."And Christine smiled back, eyes already closing again.---Meanwhile, back at home, the rest of the band—Stevie, Lindsey, Mick, and even John before his trip—received **calls**, not texts, from close contacts. Karen told Sharon, who told Marilyn, who told Ali, who told Becca, who told MaryElle, who told Eilynn, who told Krystal, who told Jenn.One call. One ripple.And somewhere on the edge of the ripple was Jenn, curled up next to her boss in a hospital bed—exactly where she was meant to be.
