The Day You Went Away

2. Change

I was going to smash the damned clock. I stared at it, willing the hands to move faster but every damned minute seemed to last an hour. I'd been waiting for what felt like years—centuries—for Dan to come out of recovery. Jumping every time a doctor or nurse walked past the waiting room where Ollie and I sat.

Waiting.

Is there any worse feeling in the world?

I tried to focus on the fact that Dan was alive. Alive was what mattered. But beneath the relief was the anxiety. Alive was good. But if Dan was infected then everything could change.

Every so often Ollie got up and walked around. Came back with coffee or candy or chips. I drank the coffee. I refused the food. If I ate I would throw up.

Of course, if I drank one more cup of bad hospital coffee I would probably throw up anyway.

"How much longer can this take?" I asked Ollie after another fifteen minutes of purgatory dragged past.

He shook his head. "Maybe it's a good sign. Werewolves heal fast. Even when they're first infected. So if it's taking a long time, maybe he's not infected."

I looked at him. He dropped his gaze. Yeah. He didn't really believe it either. The longer it took, the more likely the news would be bad. I didn't know what the protocol for treating a newly infected shifter was but surely there were precautions to be taken.

Desperate for distraction, I pulled out my cell, started to open my email but then changed my mind and put the phone away.

"There's a chapel here," Ollie said suddenly.

I blinked at him. "What?"

He pointed at my neck. "You wear a cross. I thought you might want to...you know."

"Oh." I clutched the cross. It was made of silver. My aunt had given it to me after my parents had died. Ollie was right. I wore it every day. But it was more to give myself some comfort that it might make a vampire think twice before trying to bite me than from any true religious conviction. It's hard to have unwavering faith after someone murders half your town. Bug went to church every week. I didn't.

I shook my head. "Thanks." I tried to smile at him but my face wouldn't cooperate. "That's a nice thought, but no."

"Okay. Is there anyone I can call for you? Someone else who can come and sit with you?"

Bug. I suddenly wanted her very badly. But she lived several hours away. I knew she'd get in her car and make the drive for me if I asked but that would just give me one more thing to worry about. I couldn't handle one more thing. Better to let her know what was happening once I actually knew something concrete. Bug loved Dan. It was pretty clear she was waiting for him to make an honest woman of me so we could start making babies for her to fuss over.

So I'd wait and see what we were dealing with before I told her. I put the phone back in my jacket pocket, removing the temptation to call or give Ollie her number.

I opened my mouth to refuse his offer. Then shut it again as a doctor in surgical scrubs came through the doors beyond the waiting room and headed toward us.

"Ms. Keenan," he said as he reached us. "I'm afraid it's not good news."

Dan looked exactly the same. Maybe a little pale. His dark hair—I'd been teasing him just that morning about needing a haircut—fell forward onto his face. I sat on the visitor's chair near his bed, watching him. Wanting to brush that hair back, to touch him. To let him know I was there. Too scared to actually do it.