Little Spark

47 - Teardrops

When the automatic doors of the hospital slide open and it hits me that I'll have to ask someone what room he's in, I almost lose my nerve. The memory of Melany's blatant lack of concern for Reign's wellbeing is what eventually fuels my absurdly valiant stride to the information desk. "Reign Patos' room number, please," I say to the round-faced receptionist.

She eyeballs me as she grabs the clipboard holding the visitors' list from the counter in front of me. "And you are?"

"Candis Cornwell," I blurt. "I'm uhh, a friend from school."

She purses her lips and raises an eyebrow, then writes down the fake name. "Ninth floor," she says. "Room's straight across from the elevator."

A million thoughts run together in my head on the ride up: what if he's asleep? Do I wake him? Can he even have visitors right now? What if someone else is there? Will he even remember who I am? The elevator chimes as the number nine lights over my head, and the doors slide open to release me.

I look around the waiting area to make sure the coast is clear before stepping out with determination and making my way toward Reign's room. I smile as I look into his open door and see him point a remote control at a television I can't see. His lower half is buried beneath multiple blankets, but from the waist up, he looks just as perfect as he did during our conversation in the woodshed.

I'm just a few yards from the door when someone with a crown of lush honey blonde hair appears at his bedside with a bowl of soup, completely blocking him from my view. I stop dead. Although I can't see her face because she has her back to me, after weeks of being plagued by its uncanny shine in my nightmares, I'd know that hair anywhere.

Are all my nightmares going to come true?

She suddenly turns to me, almost like she can feel me eyeing the back of her head, and a puzzled look overtakes her pretty features. For what seems like forever, we stare at each other, and then out of nowhere, Reign's sorry excuse for a mother comes out of the room.

She and his despicable father are so awful to Reign; it never even crossed my mind that she might be here. She glowers at me with absolute loathing as she pulls the door closed behind her.

"What are you doing here?" she says, striding up to me and angrily putting her hands on her hips.

I swallow the anxiety I feel beneath her glare and lift my chin high—she barely reaches my shoulder, after all. "I'm here to see Reign," I say, feeling increasingly confident as each word rolls off my tongue. "I need to speak with him."

"Keep your voice down," she commands. "Reign is not available."

Her voice triggers a memory of the phone call I overheard—'Remember, no visible marks'—and fury throbs in my temples. Nothing breaks or flickers of course, which just makes me even madder. Despite being his mother, I know this woman does not have Reign's best interests at heart. I do. I gave up my freaking powers for him.

I take a step closer to her. "He sure seems to be available to that blonde girl in there."

She narrows her eyes. "Who I allow to see my son is none of your concern," she says. "You need to leave now. You will not be permitted to see him so don't come back. We don't fraternize with your kind."

"Get out of my way," I say, trying to step around her.

Displaying surprising agility, she sticks with me and steps right into my face. "Listen closely, little girl: I don't know what you think was going on between you and my son, but it is officially null and void." She looks at my necklace and her eyes flare, momentarily filling with the same rage-crazed look I saw just before Ms. Davison tried to run over me. I get a really bad feeling in the pit of my stomach, and for the first time since our encounter at the carnival, I'm genuinely scared of this wicked little she-devil.