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And just like that, I’m alone.

My breath catches in my throat, my chest tight with the kind of panic that has nowhere to go. I stagger backward and drop into a waiting room chair, my hands clenched in my lap, my fingers numb from the grip I haven’t released since the drive over.

The harsh lights overhead buzz quietly. The vinyl seat beneath me sticks to the back of my thighs. I watch the clock, try and play a little Candy Mine on my phone, pace, drink endless amounts of bitter coffee from the vending machine and wait and wait and pray to anyone who will listen that Joey will be okay. I would do just about anything right now to feel Eddie’s arms around me, to hear his whispered reassurance in my ear.

My phone sits silent in my hoodie pocket. No new messages. No new calls.

Eddie is on stage right now. Or—was. I glance at the clock on the wall. Nearly midnight.

The show must’ve ended by now.

He’s out there changing lives, begging the world to step up and save kids like Joey. And here I am, sitting in the cold silence of a hospital waiting room, doing nothing while one of the most important people in my life fights for every breath.

Tears sting at my eyes.

I wipe them away with my sleeve, staring blankly at the door.

I don’t know who to call.

I don’t want to take away from what tonight was supposed to be. But I also want him here. More than anything.

The door swings open.

Lucas steps out, looking older in this moment than I’ve ever seen him. His shoulders are low. His eyes are rimmed red. His hands twitch like he doesn’t know what to do with them.

I shoot to my feet. “How is he?”

“They’re… stabilizing him,” he says, voice hollow. “Trying to drain the fluid. He’s in and out.”

My throat tightens painfully. “What can I do?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing. There’s nothing left to do but wait. And… pray.”

His voice cracks on the last word. My heart folds in on itself.

“Do you want me to call anyone?”

He shakes his head slowly. “I’ll call Nico.”

He slumps into the chair beside me, dragging his phone out with shaking hands. He finds the name, taps it, lifts it to his ear.

“Come on,” he whispers. “Come on…”

The second the line connects, I hear Nico’s voice.

“Lucas?”

Lucas opens his mouth, but no sound comes out.

He bows his head, one hand dragging across his face as his entire body shudders with the effort of keeping it together. His breath hitches. His shoulders quake.

“Lucas?” Nico says again, alarmed now. “What’s wrong?”

I reach out, gently take the phone from Lucas, and lift it to my ear, trying to sound steady even as my voice wobbles. “Nico, it’s Laney.”

“What’s happened?”

“It’s Joey,” I whisper. “He’s… he’s not doing well. Swelling, unresponsive. They’re stabilizing him now, but it’s… it’s bad.”