Page 26 of The Gravity of Us (Elements 4)

She shook her head.

“It’s fine. Sorry I stopped by. I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“You’re not a—” Before I could finish my sentence, he was out the door. “Bother,” I murmured.

“I’m gonna try to call her,” Mari said, racing to her cell phone, her heart probably racing at the same speed as mine. “Where are you going?” she asked as I headed for the front door.

I didn’t have time to reply as I left in the same hurry Graham had.

“Graham!” I called, just seconds before he stepped into his black Audi. He looked up at me, almost as if he was confused by my entire existence.

“What?”

“I…what—you can’t just barge into my shop, drop all of this information, and then rush off. What can I do? How can I help?”

His brows lowered and he shook his head. “You can’t.” Then he climbed into his car and drove off, leaving me baffled.

My sister was missing and I had a niece fighting for her life, and there was nothing I could do to help?

I found that hard to believe.

“I’m going to go to the hospital,” I told Mari as I stepped back inside the building. “To check in on everything.”

“I’ll come too,” she offered, but I told her it was best if she kept the shop up and running. There was too much to do, and if both of us left, we would fall too far behind on everything.

“Also, keep trying to get a hold of Lyric. If she’s going to answer for one of us, it would be you.”

“Okay. Promise to call me if anything goes wrong and you need me,” she told me.

“Promise.”

When I walked into the NICU, I noticed Graham’s back first. He was sitting in a chair, hunched over, his eyes glued to the small crib that held his daughter. “Graham,” I whispered, making him look up. When he turned to see me, he looked hopeful, almost as if he thought I was Jane. The flash of hope disappeared as he stood up and stepped closer to his daughter.

“You didn’t have to come here,” he told me.

“I know. I just thought I should make sure everything was okay.”

“I don’t need the company,” he said as I stepped in closer. The closer I got, the more he tensed up.

“It’s okay if you’re sad, or scared…” I whispered, staring at the little girl’s tiny lungs working so hard to breathe. “You don’t have to be strong at all times,” I said.

“Will my weakness save her?” he snapped.

“No, but—”

“Then I won’t waste my time.”

I shifted around in my shoes. “Have you heard from my sister?”

“No.”

“She’ll be back,” I said, hoping I wasn’t a liar.

“She left me a note that said otherwise.”

“Seriously? That’s…” My words faded away before I could say it was shocking. In a way, it wasn’t. My oldest sister had always been a bit of a runner, like our father. I shifted the conversation. “What’s her name?” I asked, looking down at the tiny girl.

“There’s no point in telling people if she’s going to…” His voice cracked. His hands formed fists, and he shut his eyes. When he reopened them, something about his cold stare shifted. For a split second, he allowed himself to feel as he watched his child trying her best to live. He lowered his head and whispered, “If she’s going to die.”