Page 12 of Should the Sky Fall

Dawson blinks. “The hospital?”

“Yes, the hospital,” Ellis says irritatedly. “Did they give you any information on Cal?”

What information on Cal? And who arethey?

“Ellis, I don’t know what you’re talking about. And how did you get my number?”

Ellis goes completely silent for a long moment. “The hospital didn’t call you?”

“Uh, no? Why—” Wait. Hospital. Information on Cal. “Cal’s at the hospital?”

He feels Kieran stiffen next to him.

“He was in a car crash. He’s in surgery as we speak—GC University Hospital. How did they not tell you?” He sounds angry, but it doesn’t seem to be directed at Dawson. He continues before Dawson can reply. “I’m already at the airport, but won’t be there sooner than two hours.” A pause. “Dawson?”

The sound of his name drags him from his spaced-out state.

“Y-yeah. I’m here.” He stands up, Kieran doing the same. “I’ll be at the hospital in half an hour.”

There’s a shaky exhale on the other side of the line. “Thanks. Keep me updated. I won’t have reception on board, but I’ll get back to you once I land.”

“Okay. Uh, see you there.”

The call disconnects. Dawson stares at the dark screen in a daze.

“Cal’s in hospital?”

“Yeah,” Dawson says, still not quite able to believe it.

“Okay.” Kieran gently pries the phone from his fingers and takes his hand. “Come on. I’ll drive you.”

Dawson lets himself be dragged to the door.

“You might want to leave these here.” Kieran nods towards Dawson’s other hand, where he’s clutching the papers.

The divorce papers. He was about to drop the D-bomb on Cal, stressing over it ever since he’d decided it was the right thing to do. Jesus, he’d even asked Kieran to hold his hand while he did it.

And now Cal’s in the hospital. Because he was in a car crash. He’s in surgery.

What if the surgery doesn’t go well?

What if it does?

What will happen now?

He leaves the papers in the kitchen and follows Kieran to his car.

They walk into the ER exactly 34 minutes later and head to the front desk. A kind-looking young woman behind the desk smiles when she notices them; her name tag says Claire.

Claire’s eyes do a quick scan of them both, probably assessing if they’re in need of medical assistance. “Can I help you?”

“Hi. I’m Dawson Reeves. I got a call that Caledon Reeves was brought here for surgery?”

Her smile slips off. “Ah, yes. And you’re…”

“His husband.”

She turns her attention to her computer and types something. She nods solemnly and looks at Dawson. “Ambulance brought him in at six-oh-five, unconscious and with shallow breathing. He was triaged and diagnosed with hemopneumothorax.” With a sad smile full of sympathy, she adds, “The surgery is still underway, but we’ll let you know as soon as the doctors finish.”