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I stay quiet. I’m not interested in making nice with either of them.

“Anne, what’s going on?” Nathan asks. They step to the end of the bed to talk to each other.

“Ethan was attacked, and Dante saved him,” Anne explains in a cut and dry manner. I respect that.

“He was attacked because of Dante,” Nathan accuses. “If the two of them hadn’t gotten involved, none of this shit would’ve happened!”

“Involved?” Lena asks, clearly confused. “Wait, I knew there was something weird going on, but…you two actually…? I’m so confused.”

“Yeah, they’re involved, and Dante wants Ethan to be part of his fucked-up crime family, and now look what’s happened!” Nathan steps closer to me and waves a hand at Ethan. “Look at him! Is he even going to awake up?”

My fists tighten and my jaw clenches. “He’ll wake up.”

“Oh, that’s all you have to say?” Nathan steps closer and shoves my shoulder.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” I give him one more chance.

Nathan glares at me. “My best friend is hurt because of you!”

“I did my best to save him. I killed the fucker, okay?” I growl at him. “What more do you want? You want me to show you where he’s buried?”

Everyone in the room goes silent, and their eyes are glued to me.

“Okay, let’s…calm down,” Lena says after a moment. There’s still fear on her face, but she takes a deep breath and steps between me and Nathan. “Whatever happened, you protected him and got him out of there, right?”

I nod stiffly.

“What do the doctors say?” she asks. Her eyes move to Ethan and her face falls even more. I step to the side, away from all of them, and let Lena hold his hand.

“The head trauma isn’t serious. The worst of it is his shoulder. His shoulder blade was shattered. He’ll need physical therapy,” I explain.

“It could be worse, I guess,” Lena whispers.

“The fuck it could,” Nathan grumbles.

It’s clear neither of these people wants me here, but I’m not leaving.

“I’m sorry for threatening you, Lena. I swear, all I wanna do is take care of Ethan,” I tell her.

Lena sighs, but doesn’t look at me.

“Let’s give them some time with Ethan,” Anne suggests. She puts her hand on my arm. I flinch at first, but then relax.

I look nervously at Ethan.

“He’s not going anywhere.”

I nod and allow her to lead me out of the room and into the hallway. We walk until we reach the end of the hall, passing door after door of coughing, beeping, and groaning. It smells so sterile and clean that it’s unsettling.

“Why isn’t Mr. Moore here?” I ask.

“Oh, he’s ice fishing. I left him a voicemail but I’m not sure when he’ll get it. When he does, he’s a few hours away,” she explains. “I’ll call him again to tell him Ethan is recovering, and there’s no need for him to rush here.”

“So he’ll stay on his trip?” I watch her face. Some of her expressions are similar to Ethan’s.

“No, he’ll rush here anyway,” she chuckles weakly.

It’s silent for a few minutes as we walk up and down the hallway, passing Ethan’s room three times.