Читать книгу: «The Saxon Brides», страница 2

Two

The bedside light clicked on. Brightness spilled into every corner of the room, hurting Alyssa’s eyes.

But she didn’t blink. She couldn’t take her eyes off the half-naked man on the bed beside her. The high, slanting cheekbones and black eyes were all too familiar. She’d studied photos of him, wondering how someone so utterly beautifully and flagrantly male could be such an arrogant swine.

Joshua Saxon.

No wonder his voice had sounded so damn familiar. She pulled her knees to her chest and yanked the bedcover over her nakedness, then buried her head in her hands, humiliation crawling through her.

“What do you want, Heath?” There was an edge to Joshua’s voice as he sat up and addressed his brother.

Through the cracks between her fingers, Alyssa peered toward the door. Heath Saxon. The younger, rakehell brother. He’d been featured in Wine Watch as a winemaker to watch. In the photo accompanying the profile, he’d been smiling, tanned. Now he hovered indecisively in the doorway. Until, a flush burning into his pasty skin, he said awkwardly, “Sorry, Joshua, but there’s been an accident.”

Joshua’s shoulders bunched under the open shirt. “An accident?”

Alyssa’s hand dropped to cover his.

“Roland’s been hurt,” Heath said. “We need to go to the hospital.”

Roland hurt? Alyssa was off the bed in an instant, pulling up the neckline of her dress.

“Roland’s my brother,” Joshua said to Alyssa. Then his focus returned to his brother. “What kind of accident?”

“A car accident.”

“What the hell happened?” Joshua asked the question before Alyssa could.

Heath shook his head. “I don’t know, but an ambulance has taken him and Amy to hospital.”

That catapulted Joshua into action. He leapt off the bed, started buttoning his shirt and trod into his shoes. “Do the parents know?”

Heath’s eyes darkened. “I told them there’d been an accident, that you and I would go see how bad it was. They’re telling everyone the party’s over.”

“Good move.” Joshua headed for the door. “If it’s necessary, they can come to the hospital later.”

Before he could disappear, Alyssa said, “I’m coming with you.”

To her relief both men were more concerned with getting to the hospital than arguing with her. Heath gave her a searching look—then glanced at Joshua and raised his eyebrows. Alyssa knew he was making assumptions—assumptions that were totally wrong. He thought she was Joshua’s lover. She didn’t bother to disillusion him.

Nor was it the time to get into lengthy discussions about her relationship to Roland … a revelation that she suspected might come as a huge shock to both men. Joshua was not to find out who she was. She didn’t need a crystal ball to know that she would be unceremoniously tossed out the house.

She couldn’t afford that. She had to find out how badly Roland was hurt.

Once in Joshua’s Range Rover, the tension became palpable. Joshua drove like a man with a lethal mission, in total silence, his hands clenched around the steering wheel. Beside him Heath made call after call from his cell phone, growing increasingly frustrated when he couldn’t get answers out of the emergency staff.

Alyssa huddled down in the back, doing her best to remain invisible lest either man question her right to be here. She prayed that Roland’s injuries were minor. Hopefully he’d be discharged tonight. It would be unbearable if, after all the waiting, she couldn’t meet with him tomorrow.

The moment the Range Rover braked outside the hospital, the three of them leapt out, hurrying for the glass doors that led to the emergency room.

Inside the smell of urgency and antiseptic injected dread into Alyssa. As Joshua’s voice rose, she heard the nurse murmuring “in surgery” and “someone will be with you soon.” Alyssa stopped a distance away. Heath asked a series of short, sharp questions and Alyssa strained her ears to hear the reply. She heard “shocked” and “will need supervision” before Joshua replied, his voice cutting. Alyssa felt for the nurse. He’d used that same voice on her in the past after her story had been printed. It had riled her enough to tell him to get lost before she’d slammed the phone down. But now she hoped it would get the answers they all wanted.

When Joshua came back to where she’d settled to wait, his mouth was tighter than before and lines of strain were etched across his forehead.

“How is my—” Alyssa broke off.

Joshua did a double take. “Your … what?” he prompted softly.

Furious with herself for the near giveaway and fighting to keep her face impassive, she asked in an even tone, “How is Roland?”

Instinct warned her that it was vital not to let Joshua Saxon know how important his answer was to her. He detested Alyssa Blake. As soon as he realised who he’d been kissing … touching … stripping … in the dark, he was going to explode.

“He’s in surgery. No news yet about the extent of his injuries.” The chair scraped against the polished floor as Joshua threw himself down beside her. “Thankfully Amy got off with only some bruising from the seat belt when the car hit a tree.”

Hit a tree? A vision of mangled steel and broken glass flashed across Alyssa’s mind. The sound of screams and groaning metal rent her imagination. She bit her lip and focused instead on Joshua’s drawn features, the beauty dimmed by the savage line of his mouth. For a moment she felt a sense of kinship with him.

“Joshua?”

He lifted his head at the intrusion and the spell was broken. Alyssa felt the loneliness return, stronger and more pervasive than before. There was no bond between her and Joshua Saxon—at least none that wasn’t based on sex. She shook away the disappointment.

Heath was heading toward them. “The nurse says they’ve finished checking Amy out and it shouldn’t be long until she’s back here.”

“It’s a relief that she wasn’t hurt. She could’ve been killed if they’re right about the speed the SUV was doing,” Joshua said darkly.

“Since when did Roland ever drive slowly?” Heath bit out.

Roland had been driving? Alyssa started to shiver with reaction. If only he’d been in the passenger seat …

She thought back to when she’d spoken to him. Had he and Amy had a lover’s tiff? Would he have had the accident if he hadn’t been upset?

“I heard them having a fight earlier in the evening. I considered breaking it up, then decided to mind my own business. My mind was on other things.” Joshua glanced at Alyssa, his face blank. “A mistake.”

So she was nothing more than a mistake. Tightness filled Alyssa’s chest.

“Not your fault,” said Heath. “No guy would welcome interference in that situation. You probably had it wrong. Amy and Roland never fight.”

Alyssa opened her mouth. “When I spoke to Roland—”

“You spoke to Roland?” Joshua interrupted Alyssa. “When?”

“Just before I decided to leave.”

“So before I spotted them on the balcony.” There was a peculiar note in Joshua’s voice. “What did you talk to him about?”

She stared at him, her hackles rising at his peremptory tone. She was a mistake, was she? Well, her business with Roland had nothing to do with him. “It wasn’t important.”

Joshua gave her a narrow-eyed glare filled with suspicion that told her he thought it was important. But before he could challenge her, a doctor in a white coat entered the reception, ushering a slender, white-faced young woman ahead of him.

Heath was on his feet. “Amy!”

Heath and Joshua both started forward.

“Are you her family?” asked the doctor.

“Yes,” said Joshua.

“No,” said Heath at that same moment.

There was a confused silence. The doctor looked from one to the other. “I need to see her family. She’ll require observation tonight.”

“We’ll take care of that,” said Joshua.

“I’ll take her home now,” added Heath, frowning as his gaze scanned Amy.

Alyssa flinched as she saw the scraped skin on the other woman’s pale face. Her fine-boned build made her look frail.

“She’s very lucky. Only one bruise from the seat belt. There’s not even a cracked rib or a broken clavicle where the seat belt restrained her. I have a list of symptoms to watch for. We’re particularly worried about concussion … or any form of head trauma. If she displays any of them bring her straight back.”

Amy stood, unmoving.

“Come on,” Joshua said, putting an arm around her, “Heath is taking you home.”

Amy blinked. “Where’s Roland?”

Joshua answered, “In surgery.”

There was a moment’s silence. “Will he be okay?” There was fear in Amy’s voice. “There was so much blood … and he was so quiet.”

“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Heath said soothingly. “You know Roland, he always bounces back.”

Amy didn’t look reassured. “When will I be able to see him?”

“We don’t know yet.” Joshua’s frustration added a hard edge to his voice. “But I’ll soon change that.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Amy said with a stubbornness that belied her delicate appearance. “Not until I’ve heard what’s happening with Roland. And Heath won’t want to leave, either.”

“Don’t be a child, Amy,” Heath sounded exasperated. “You heard what the doctor said, you need rest and observation. There’s already one—” He broke off.

“Patient?” Amy’s chin lifted. “Don’t worry about me, I won’t collapse. You can observe me here. I’m not going anywhere until I’ve seen Roland.”

Alyssa suppressed the urge to cheer the other woman on for standing up to the overbearing Saxons. She knew exactly how Amy felt. She, too, wanted to see Roland with a deep, driving ache. She shifted restlessly.

Joshua’s gaze flickered to her before returning to Amy. “Can I get you anything while we wait?” His tone was gentle, not hinting at the frustration he must be feeling at Amy’s intransigence.

Amy shook her head violently. “I’m fine.”

But even Alyssa could see that the other woman was far from fine. How must Roland’s fiancée be feeling, waiting to hear the extent of her beloved’s injuries?

The waiting was bad enough for her. She’d only met Roland once. Very briefly. The man she’d been seeking for years …

A strand of hair fell forward. She stared at it. It was dark red—thankfully not the bright red that topped Roland’s head, more of an auburn shade. But it was something tangible that she shared with him.

There would be more links to discover once they got to know each other. There must be. After all, Roland was her brother and they shared the same DNA.

A stir at the doorway caused Alyssa to lift her head. Kay and Phillip Saxon—Roland’s adoptive parents—had arrived.

“How is he? Can we see him?” Kay’s eyes were frantic, and the powerfully built, gray-haired man beside her looked shattered. Everyone swarmed around them. Alyssa saw her chance.

She stopped a passing nurse. “Roland Saxon … where is he?”

“What’s your relationship to the patient?” The nurse glanced at the clipboard she held. “Are you the fiancée?”

She hesitated, glancing quickly back to where Kay Saxon was bending over Amy, patting her shoulder. It would be better if she didn’t lie outright and simply let the nurse assume she was Roland’s fiancée.

“My name is Alyssa Blake, I’m—”

“Alyssa Blake?” Joshua had come up behind her, unheard. Now his angry gaze impaled her.

Uh-oh.

“Are you the fiancée?” The nurse looked confused.

“No! She’s not my brother’s fiancée,” Joshua hissed from between clenched teeth.

Alyssa’s heart crashed to the floor as she read the disdain and rage in his eyes. Game over. She could kiss her hopes of seeing Roland tonight goodbye.

“So you’re Alyssa Blake, the journalist?”

Suddenly everyone was gathered around. Heath, his eyes almost as glacial as his brother’s. Kay and Phillip Saxon. Only Amy remained seated, her face cupped in her hands.

Alyssa’s gaze flickered from face to face. “Yes, I’m Alyssa—”

“You told me your name was Alice,” Joshua interrupted.

“It is—”

“Alice?” Kay Saxon had gone so white that her lips appeared bloodless.

“Don’t worry—her name isn’t Alice. She’s Alyssa Blake, that bloody journalist who—”

Alyssa cut across Joshua’s rant. “What does it matter right now what my name is? Roland is hurt.”

“You’re right! I’ve wasted enough time on a journalist in the business of telling lies.” Joshua’s gaze scorched her. “It’s my brother who’s important right now. Come, Heath.” Joshua stormed past her, his brother in his wake.

Feeling sick, Alyssa started to follow.

“Wait.” Kay Saxon grabbed her arm.

Alyssa stopped. Maybe Kay would let her see Roland if she told the older woman the truth. That Roland was her brother. That she’d dreamed for so long of this day … of finding her brother … of meeting him. Warily, she searched Kay Saxon’s face for a hint of softness.

“Did Joshua call you Alice?” Kay’s eyes held desperation.

“Yes.”

“But you introduced yourself as Alyssa Blake to the nurse.”

“Yes.” Where was this going? Alyssa could feel impatience rising in her. She needed to find a way to get to Roland’s side. To hold his hand, absorb his pain.

“Does that mean you’re Alice McKay?”

Alyssa froze. “What do you know about Alice McKay?”

“You contacted Roland.”

“Yes. He told you?” She’d wondered how Kay and Phillip would feel about her contacting Roland. It looked as if she was about to find out.

Phillip stood behind his wife, a solid wall of powerful flesh she’d have to scale to get to Roland. “Darling, the doctor will be here in a minute to talk to us.”

“Phillip …” Kay’s hand rested on his arm and Alyssa could see that the fingers were shaking. “Didn’t you hear? This is Alice McKay.”

After one startled moment when everything seemed to freeze, Phillip recovered and in a low voice demanded, “What are you doing here?”

Roland’s parents definitely knew who she was. But neither appeared welcoming. A sinking pit opened in Alyssa’s stomach. She lifted her chin. “I wanted to meet my brother.”

From across the room, she saw Joshua reappear and an ugly frown disfigured his handsome face when he saw her talking to his parents. Clearly he didn’t want them talking to the notorious Alyssa Blake.

“Now is not the time for this. We want you to leave,” Phillip ordered.

Alyssa stiffened and fisted her hands at her sides. “Now is exactly the time for me to be here—my brother is in surgery. I have every right to be here.”

Kay Saxon took her clenched hands. “I understand how you feel, but Roland wouldn’t want you here.”

Alyssa’s throat closed and she felt perilously close to the tears that she’d been fighting. “What do you mean?”

“He never responded to your letters or e-mails, did he?”

With heavy reluctance, Alyssa choked out, “No, he didn’t.”

“Doesn’t that tell you something?”

“That he didn’t get them?”

“He did receive them.” Kay’s eyes held shadows. “He chose not to reestablish contact.”

“But I’m his sister.” It was as though she’d ventured into a nightmare world, full of blood and death and unhappiness. All she’d wanted was a brother, a taste of family that most people took for granted. “He can’t not want to meet me!”

Phillip Saxon looked around, frowning.

Kay’s icy grip tightened around her fingers. “Dear, he’s a Saxon—the eldest. Not even his brothers and sister know that he’s adopted. Roland didn’t want it getting out.”

“No!” Her stomach churning, Alyssa rejected what she was hearing. She stared at Kay Saxon, hating the older woman for what she was saying. But then she took in Kay’s sincerity and the deeply etched lines of pain around her mouth and the hatred evaporated.

“This is hard enough for all of us right now, Alice. Don’t force us to reveal the truth … that Roland isn’t a Saxon.”

The impact of what Kay was saying pounded into her. Roland had rejected his birth sister in case their relationship took away his Saxon status. How could she stay under those circumstances?

Tears stung her eyes. “I just wanted to see him, hold his hand.”

“It would be selfish—and not what Roland wants,” Kay Saxon said softly, persuasively. “Right now we have to think about Roland.”

Blinking back her tears, Alyssa nodded. “All right.”

Relief flared in Kay’s eyes. “Thank you.” The older woman hesitated. “Do you have a cell phone, Alice?”

Alyssa nodded.

“Give me your number, dear. I’ll call you as soon as we get an update.”

Alyssa dug a business card out of her bag. Kay took it and pocketed it, glancing past Alyssa as she did so. “Now let’s all talk about something else—Joshua is coming.”

Three

Joshua made his way over to where his parents stood with Alyssa, Alice—whatever her damned name was.

He was aware of the incongruously glamourous, burgundy dress she wore and how it mirrored the colour of her long hair. Against the rich hue her bare shoulders gleamed like pale pearls.

Angrily he suppressed the flare of reckless want. He’d just taken a call from the surgery team advising that his brother was in critical condition—worse than the medical team had originally believed—and here he was lusting after Alyssa Blake, accomplished liar. It was insane.

But even as he drew closer, she gathered up her bag and rose to her feet. He stopped beside his parents and thrust his hands into his trouser pockets, at a loss to convey what he had learned. As Alyssa started for the doors one hand shot out and snagged her arm. “Where are you going?”

She kept her head down and continued to walk. “I’m leaving.”

“Wait … I need some answers.”

But she pulled free of his hold and marched toward the external glass doors in a flurry of dark red. Joshua started after her, then stopped as Heath came over and murmured, “Have you told Mum and Dad?”

He shook his head.

His parents must come first.

The next two minutes were a nightmare as he relayed what the surgeon had told him. “It’s the internal bleeding they’re worried about, and the head injury. Roland wasn’t wearing a seat belt. He was catapulted from the SUV. The surgeon said they don’t expect to be out for hours.”

His mother’s eyes stretched wide, shocked. His father straightened stiffly. Heath, his brave, bad-boy brother, was still pale under his tan. Joshua knew they all feared the same unspoken thing—that Roland might die.

Through the glass doors he could see Alyssa Blake’s back, bare above that killer dress. She must be freezing. Then he put how cold she must be out of his mind.

All this had started with her arrival.

Anger turned his vision bright red. Leaving his parents with Heath, he stalked forward. The doors slid open and cool, dank night air rushed against his face.

The doors hissed closed behind him. Ahead lay the almost-empty car park. Alyssa didn’t spare him a glance.

He drew a deep, steadying breath. “You came with me. How do you propose to leave?”

She brandished a cell phone. “I’ve called a cab—I need to collect my car from your home.”

“You can’t be intending to drive back to Auckland tonight?”

“Don’t worry, there’s not a drop of alcohol in my system.” She gave him a sideways glance. “But, no, I won’t be leaving tonight. I want to stay near Roland.”

He drew another, deeper breath and forced himself not to react. Instead he said as calmly as he could manage, “You must be freezing. Here, take my jacket.” He started to shrug off the black dinner jacket he’d grabbed before they’d left the homestead.

But she said, “No, thanks. I’m fine.”

“You’ve got gooseflesh.” He touched the skin on her upper arms, and she leapt away as if he’d singed her.

“I don’t need it. The taxi will be here in a moment.”

“You can give it back to me tomorrow.”

She stilled. “Okay, thank you.”

He slid the jacket off. It sounded as if it had taken a lot for her to accept his offer of help. Contrary damn woman. Watching her wind the jacket around herself, he relaxed a little as the pale tempting flesh disappeared out of sight.

“Where will you stay?”

Her mouth curled. “Don’t worry, you won’t need to track me down. I’ll return it to you tomorrow.”

“I wasn’t worried about that.”

She named a popular hotel in town.

“And you’re leaving tomorrow, right?” Part of him wanted her to leave, never come back. He couldn’t help the ridiculous superstitious stab of dread that her arrival had heralded Roland’s accident. But there was another part of him, the sybaritic pagan part, who wanted to see her again. Touch her again. Kiss her again.

For one reckless instant he considered doing just that. It would be so easy. One tug, and she’d be up against his chest. He’d feel her body warm against his, he’d taste her lips under his mouth. The cold that froze him inside might seep away under her touch … her kisses.

And then he’d despise himself for it. He shook his head to clear it.

Maybe Alyssa Blake was a witch.

“I might leave tomorrow. It depends.” Alyssa gave him a sideways glance.

But Joshua barely heard. He frowned as he took in her red-rimmed eyes, the silvery stains on her cheeks where the wind had already dried the tears. “You’ve been crying.”

Quickly she averted her face.

“Why?”

The look she gave him revealed too little. Secrets, he thought suddenly. He glanced through the glass doors and his gaze landed on Amy, curled up in the chair, her face wearing an expression of intense misery.

His gaze came back to Alyssa and narrowed. Instead of drowning her, his dinner jacket simply increased her upmarket city sexiness. She was gorgeous, stylish, smart. The kind of woman Roland had always dated before he’d become engaged to Amy….

And Amy had been upset earlier this evening—she and Roland had fought, even though it was common knowledge they never fought. The uncertain suspicion coalesced into certainty.

Alyssa had been having an affair with Roland.

She must have confronted Roland during the evening, and Amy had found out.

It wasn’t important, Alyssa had said when Joshua asked her about her conversation with his brother. He’d known from the flicker in her eyes that she’d been lying. The conversation had been very important.

And now Roland was unconscious….

No wonder Alyssa was upset. Did she feel responsible for causing her lover’s accident?

Did she love his brother?

He raked his hands through his hair as unruly thoughts churned round and round in his overwrought brain. “Who invited you to the ball tonight? You weren’t on the list of official guests—it had to be a personal invitation.” From Roland?

“I didn’t have an invitation. I gate-crashed.” There was defiance in her gaze.

Then she turned away. He heard what she had, the sound of the taxi pulling up at the curb.

But all he could think about was that Roland hadn’t invited her. Or she could be lying. Again. “Why? What did you hope to achieve?”

She didn’t answer and started to move away.

“Tell me, dammit.” Without thought, he reached for her. His hands closed over her shoulders covered with the fine fabric of his jacket. He glared down into her blank features, her lashes lying long and dark against her cheeks. “Tell me!”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”

Had she tried to break up Roland’s engagement? He struggled to read the beautiful, frozen face. “I think it does.”

She didn’t answer. He slid his hands down and circled her wrists, gave them a shake to get her to meet his gaze.

Wrapped in his jacket, she stood unmoving. And strangely that made him even angrier. He wanted her to object to his hold, he wanted her to struggle, to see her eyes spit fire at him; he didn’t like the limp arms in his grasp, the listlessness in her eyes.

So he softened his grasp and said with quiet menace, “What did you want at Saxon’s Folly tonight?”

She hesitated. “I’m sorry, I can’t tell you.”

He heard the taxi door open.

“Ma’am, did you book the taxi?”

He looked over her shoulder. “The lady’s not ready to leave yet.”

“But I am,” she murmured.

His brows drew together. “I want an answer before you go. What did you want?”

What had happened between her and Roland? Had Roland sent her away—was that why she’d kissed him out in the garden? To get back at Roland? Was that why she’d landed in his bed?

As revenge against his brother?

He didn’t like that idea at all. Yet he couldn’t seem to bring himself to release her arm. The pain in her eyes damn near killed him.

He’d never envied his older brother, but now he did.

Whatever happened, if Roland survived the hours of surgery that lay ahead, Joshua wasn’t going to allow Alyssa to rekindle whatever affair she and Roland had going. He told himself that his resolve had nothing to do with the wild feeling that Alyssa had aroused in him; he had Amy to think about. Sweet Amy who was expecting to marry Roland in two months’ time.

Behind him he heard the doors whisper open.

“Joshua?”

He turned and glared at Heath. “What?”

“Mother wants you.”

Alyssa pulled free. “I’ll get your jacket back to you tomorrow.”

“I don’t care about the damn jacket.” Inside he seethed. “This conversation is not finished. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

She wouldn’t flee town overnight, not while the outcome of Roland’s surgery was unknown. Secure in that knowledge he turned on his heel and followed his brother back into the hospital.

It was going to be a long night.

The sound of her cell phone ringing shattered Alyssa’s restless sleep. The compressing darkness of the hotel room lay like a heavy blanket around her.

It would be Joshua calling to finish the conversation he’d started outside the emergency room. Alyssa dragged herself upright. She wasn’t ready for this confrontation. Then she spotted the green digital numerals of the clock radio and her heart jolted with fear. Four-thirty in the morning. Too early to be Joshua.

Her hand trembling, she picked up the phone.

“Where are you staying?” Little composure remained in Kay Saxon’s voice.

Alyssa’s heart slammed against her ribs in fear as she automatically gave Kay the information she sought. “Is Roland okay?” she asked shakily.

There was an ominous silence. Then Kay said, “I’ll send a cab. You need to come now.” The phone went dead.

It had to be bad.

With few alternatives—the red dress or a pin-striped business suit—Alyssa threw on the pair of baggy sweats and sweater she’d worn for the drive down to Hawkes Bay and was downstairs in minutes. By the time the lights of the cab cut through the dark gray pre-dawn light she was already out on the sidewalk.

Too soon she’d reached the white hospital building. Inside, everything was quiet. She made for the front desk. “Where will I find Roland Saxon?”

“Are you Alice?” A nurse came around the desk at her silent nod. “Come, I’ll take you to him.”

Sick with anxiety, Alyssa was led through double-seal doors into a unit filled with beeps and a sense of life-and-death gravity. At the sound of hissing as the ventilator rose and fell, fear shafted through Alyssa.

She took in the couple hovering by the bed.

Kay and Phillip Saxon.

On a high bed lay a prone figure wrapped in dressings, attached to the life-support machines, an oxygen mask over his face, so swollen that he was rendered unrecognizable. Only the shock of red hair sticking out from the head dressing revealed that this was Roland.

“You have five minutes,” the nurse whispered. “Only family are supposed to be here—and only two at a time. I’ve already stretched the rules.” Then she was gone in a rustle of starch.

Kay Saxon turned, her eyes puffy. She’d aged in the past few hours. “I’m glad you made it.”

“How is he?”

“He’s unconscious. I’m not sure how much is induced—”

Alyssa said desperately, “But he’s going to be all right.”

He had to be.

Kay took her hands. “The doctors don’t think so. That’s why I called you. I couldn’t live with myself if—” Her voice broke.

Cold dread suffocated Alyssa. “They think he’s going to die?”

Kay hesitated. “They told us to call anyone who might want to see him. They warned us to prepare for the worst.”

Her world crashed in. Alyssa fell to her knees, stretching her hands to touch the heavily bandaged hands of the man in the bed.

Her brother.

Her brother who was dying.

Kay sniffed behind her, but Alyssa was crying so hard she couldn’t think.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to have ended.

She was to see him tomorrow. Today. She’d been looking forward to reuniting with the brother she’d been searching for since she was eighteen.

“Nooo!” It was a wail of anguish.

Then Kay was holding her and murmuring to her not to cry because it might upset Roland. As Alyssa’s tears subsided, Kay pulled away. “Alyssa, the boys are coming, and I don’t want them to find you here. Phillip and I don’t want to have to answer their questions. Please, for our sakes—for Roland’s sake—will you go now?”

Before Alyssa could answer, the nurse was there, waiting to escort her out.

She wanted to beg for more time. Her throat closed. The words didn’t come. Finally, she swallowed and managed to speak. “Give me one minute. To say—” her voice cracked “—goodbye.”

Kay nodded and waved off the nurse.

Alyssa bent forward, her lips colder than ice as they brushed the forehead of the man in the bed. She noticed a drip of liquid on his forehead. Water? Another splash. No—tears, she realised. Her tears.

Closing her eyes she prayed. For Roland. For herself. For a miracle. For all the years they’d missed. Then she kissed him and murmured, “Au revoir.”

Blinded by tears, she turned for the door, the room a blur.

Joshua hurried toward the hospital elevator, Heath and his younger sister, Megan, flanking him on either side. The panel above the elevator doors showed that a car was already descending and Joshua found himself drumming his fingers as they waited for the doors to open. Hurry. Hurry.