Page 68 of The Payback Adventure
The only choice.
Henry knew that in his heart, but his life would never be the same. Maybe that was why saying the words were so hard. He inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly.
“Henry?” Cynthia asked.
It was now or never. “You win.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The Portland Children’s Hospital was newer than the county hospital. That explained why everything there was fresh and bright to appeal to young patients. The facility impressed Elisabeth, but she was lost.
Alice had a better chance of finding her way back through the looking glass than Elisabeth had in locating the waiting room. She must have made a wrong turn when she walked out of the restroom. Or several. Worst of all, she couldn’t find a floor plan or a map anywhere. Even the signs seemed to lead her astray.
I’m walking around in circles.
Of course, she’d felt the same way ever since the neurosurgeon had spoken to her after examining Caitlin. His words kept swirling through Elisabeth’s head. An acute bleed was putting pressure on Caitlin’s brain. She needed immediatesurgery. Something about a pressure probe being inserted into her skull. Relieving pressure by evacuating the hematoma. It was all very confusing and frightening. The doctor had also talked about the risks— permanent nerve damage, permanent brain damage, death—and alternatives to surgery—none.
Elisabeth shivered. That seemed like hours ago, but maybe she’d just lost track of time. A part of her wished this was nothing more than a nightmare, but the pain was too real for her to be dreaming.
Where was Henry?
She wished he would arrive and glanced around as if he would magically appear. Funny, but she wouldn’t put that past him, given everything else he’d done for her.
His friends had been waiting for her as he’d promised. They’d met her just inside the hospital from the helicopter pad as if they’d been tracking the flight plan. Laurel, an interior designer and mother of Henry’s goddaughter, greeted Elisabeth with a hug and handed her a bottle of water to drink. Her husband, Brett, a financial adviser who seemed like an all-around nice guy, was also Henry’s best friend. Brett had told her that he would deal with admission details and only asked her for help if he couldn’t answer a question. Elisabeth was so appreciative of that since they were strangers to her. However, she realized Brett had been one of the references Cynthia had given for Henry, so this was Elisabeth’s second time speaking with him.
She wanted to get back to Laurel and Brett and wait for an update from the doctor.
As she wandered around the floor, Elisabeth realized nothing looked familiar. Was this still the same wing?
Trying to make her way back to the waiting room, Elisabeth passed a dozen pink roses in a crystal vase and a stuffed pony sitting on the top shelf of a cart. Caitlin would love the stuffed animal. If only she were here to see it…
Emotion clogged Elisabeth’s throat. Her sister had to be okay. She just had to be.
Standing at an intersection of three hallways, Elisabeth’s vision blurred. She rubbed her eyes, deciding to go straight. The left and right hallways hadn’t led her to the waiting area where she’d left Laurel and Brett. That much she knew.
Elisabeth needed to get back. She needed news about Caitlin’s status. She needed Henry.
What was keeping him?
She couldn’t wait to see Henry. He would help her ignore the antiseptic smell in the air. He would help her see things weren’t as horrible as they seemed. He would help her feel better.
Her work boots against the sanitary tile floor echoed through the hallway. She walked past the same bank of elevators. Again.
Her shoulders slumped, and tears welled once again. She blinked, not wanting to break down out in the open.
Elisabeth took a breath and another. All she needed was to be pointed in the right direction. If she waited in one spot, maybe someone would come by who could show her the way.
As she leaned against the wall, she noticed a bronze plaque engraved with a dedication hanging opposite her.
The C. & L. Davenport Wing of Portland Children’s Hospital was donated by Henry Davenport in memory of his parents, Charles and Lillian Davenport.
Elisabeth squinted to reread the words.
Henry…Davenport?HerHenry Davenport?
Except Henry had nothing. Yet…hadn’t Cynthia said he’d lost everything? Maybe before his misfortune, Henry had donated a whole hospital wing?
Elisabeth bit her lip, confused. No, that wasn’t possible.
