The air left the living room. I gripped the edge of the counter.
“I should’ve warned you.”
“Done something how? Diane, talk to me,” I begged, feeling panicked.
“Just come. Please. I can’t do this on the phone.”
The line went dead.
I stood there with the phone still pressed to my ear, my mind already racing through every version of what could have gone wrong in a hospital room. I grabbed my car keys without my coat.
The whole drive over, my hands wouldn’t stop shaking against the steering wheel.
“I can’t do this on the phone.”
***
The automatic doors of the hospital slid open, and I walked in too fast, my car keys still clenched in my fist.
Diane was already waiting in the corridor, her arms crossed tightly against her chest, when I arrived. She didn’t smile or even say hello.
“Rachel. Come with me.”
I followed her down the hallway, past the nurses’ station, past a cart of folded blankets.
My mouth was dry.
“Diane, please, just tell me. Is Lily okay? Did Aaron say something? What happened?”
“He crossed a line,” she said, not slowing down.
“Come with me.”
“A line? Diane, my son shaved his head for your daughter. He did it out of love.”
