Chapter 95. Meeting

Ryder’s POV

I couldn’t bring myself to leave the hospital. After I returned her to her room, after I watched her descend toward that fitful, drugged sleep, I couldn’t bring myself to leave. I couldn’t reenter the truck.

Just the thought of leaving her in that cold, white room had my skin crawling. So I stayed. I sat up in the hard plastic chair by the wall, watching the green line hold steady on the monitor, listening to her breath. Nothing else was making a sound in the world.

When the sun came up, it just made the room more dismal. Around seven, her mom, Vivian, came in with two styrofoam cups of coffee. She looked like she hadn’t slept in a month.

She looked exhausted, and you can tell she didn’t trust me.

It was the storm that had destroyed her daughter’s life, and we both knew that. She didn’t say anything. She just walked over, put one of the cups on the table next to me, and took the other seat. We didn’t talk. We just... watched.