Chapter 14

                                    

                                          
*Daniel POV*
"Danny," Dad hangs up on his phone. "Daniel, we've got to go. Now." 
"Oh my gosh, Dad," I say, wrestling with my coat. "Give me a second. Can't we wait for Rina?" 
"Rina was in a car wreck," Dad's face is grim. "We've got to get to the hospital." 
My eyes widen. I stop trying to put on my coat. For a split second, my mind freezes. Then I run past my dad, swinging open the door as fast as I can, and run out. I jiggle the doorknob until Dad runs out, clicking the unlock button on the key multiple times. 
Finally, the door snaps open, and I almost get hit in the face by it. I quickly slide into the passenger's seat, shaking my left leg with nervousness. 
"Did they say how she was?" I ask anxiously. 
"Something about a concussion..." Dad's voice trails off. That's his tell. He knows more than he's letting on.
"What else?" I ask anxiously.
Dad shakes his head as he drives. "We'll find out when we get there." 
I sigh inwardly. Figures. 
We pull into the hospital parking lot and I run in, Dad on my heels. 
Mom meets us in the lobby when we walk in.
"How is she?" Dad asks.
Mom purses her lips. "She has damage to her spine, but they think that's fixable. It's her legs that are the worst right now. There's a lot of muscle and nerve damage. Her left leg is broken in several places. She's in surgery right now. They're trying to save her legs. We won't know until she's out; whether or not they need to be amputated." 
My eyes widened. "Amputated? Rina's a runner. That can't happen." 
"She'll still be able to run, even if her legs have to be amputated. Our hope is that they won't," Mom says. 
"How long is the surgery?" I ask. 
Mom shakes her head. "Depends on how much they have to do to her legs. Why don't we go on up and wait?" 
As I walk after my parents, my fingers dart around on my phone. I hold it up to my ear as it rings. 
"Hello?" 
"Gemma," I say. "Help me. How fast can you get to the hospital?"
*Gemma POV*
I sit in the waiting room, my head dropped in my hands. It darts up when I hear motion. 
"Guys," Mrs. Michaels says, standing in the doorway. "You've got to go home." Her brown hair is frazzled from running her hands through it nervously. But really, what can you expect? Her daughter's in surgery. 
"I'm not leaving her," Daniel says automatically. 
"Danny," Mrs. Michaels looks at him empathetically. "We don't know how long she'll be in surgery." 
"I don't care," Daniel says. "I'll stay here overnight if I have to. Mom. She's my sister." 
Mrs. Michaels looks at her watch. "You almost have been. We're bordering on hour four of surgery. It's almost four a.m." 
"So let me stay," Daniel pleads. 
Mrs. Michaels sighs. "Gemma," she says. "You at least need to go. I can't ask you to stay here." 
"You're not asking me," I say. "I'm staying. Please don't make me go." 
Mrs. Michaels sighs. 
"Mom," Daniel says, looking up. "Please." His eyes are red and puffy. His face has a pinkish tint.