Page 91 of Blind Trust
She’d realized, after a fitful night of sleep, that it was a much different ball game when she was making split-second decisions regarding risks than when she was willingly choosing to say, “Hey, bad guy, take your best shot.” That realization shifted her perspective when she thought about what Nicolás had told her last night over chocolate fondue. She’d never really considered how her decisions might affect her family, her team...Nicolás.
That thought made her think of Jerry’s family. Mrs. Miller had lost both of her children, and now her daughter-in-law and grandchildren were in hiding somewhere. R.D., where was she? Was she safe? Was her family?
And what about Lyla’s family? Her grandparents? Walsh? What had caused him to lie to her all these years? What risks had Sean Murphy been facing? So much loss, and it made her realize not all risks held the same value.
“Lyla.” Nicolás put his hand at the small of her back.
She hadn’t realized they were already on the ICU floor and her mom was standing in the hallway, staring at her like she wanted to run to her but also fearfully rooted to the spot.
“Hi, Mom.”
They met in the middle, followed by awkward seconds where neither one of them knew what to say or do.
“How’s Tom?”
“It’s still touch and go. They’ve had to put in a trach, and the doctors think it’s better to keep him in the coma. They’ll let you go back and see him.”
Lyla felt timid, like she both knew the woman in front of her but also didn’t. She was grateful Nicolás was with her. “Okay.”
“Your dad is back there with Sam and someone from work, I think.” Her mom looked at Nicolás. “They allow only four guests.”
“I’ll wait out here.”
Lyla walked down the ICU hallway, where rooms on both sides were occupied by patients hooked up to beeping monitors and breathing machines. It made her a little woozy. Or maybe it was the antiseptic smell. Whatever it was, she didn’t want to hang around here long.
Her heart sank when she came to Walsh’s room. On his bed, in a hospital gown with wires attached all over him, he didn’t look like the vigorous man she loved so much. He looked older and...human. Her eyes filled with tears. Walsh wasn’t invincible.
“Lyla.” Her father’s voice called to her, and she found him standing next to Sam, who was sitting on the couch with a woman Lyla didn’t know. “Are you...how are you?”
“I’m good.” Lyla swallowed against the knot building in her throat. She looked at Sam. “How are you?”
Sam rose from the couch and wrapped her in a hug. “Better thanI was last night. Tom’s strong and showing some minor improvement that’s making the doctors happy.”
“That’s really good to hear.”
Stepping back, Sam gestured to the other woman. “Do you know Christine León?”
“I don’t.” Lyla shook the woman’s hand.
“I work for the secretary of defense. He wanted me to deliver those”—she indicated a beautiful bouquet of flowers on a hospital table next to a few others and gave Sam a sympathetic smile—“and his prayers for a full recovery.”
Her father walked over. “Lyla, do you have time to talk?”
Lyla breathed out slowly and gave a quick nod. She wasn’t sure she was ready for this conversation, but standing next to Walsh’s frail body was cracking her composure, and she needed to be strong for whatever the next couple of hours would bring.
They walked back to the same room where Lyla had discovered the truth about her life. Her mother stood up from a chair next to a window.
Glancing back down the hallway and then back to her mom, she asked, “Where’s Agent Bridges?”
Her mom frowned. “Oh, you mean Sophie? She went to get some food for Sam from the cafeteria. We’ve been trying to make sure she eats. She won’t be any help to Tom if she doesn’t take care of herself.”
“That’s true,” Lyla said, rubbing her arm. “So, um...”
“Lyla, we are so sorry for...” Her father pressed his lips together. “Everything. Well, not everything. We are not sorry that you came to be our daughter. We are sorry for the circumstances behind it, but from the moment you were placed in our arms—you were ours.”
“I’ve always felt like I didn’t fit in.” Lyla’s throat ached with emotion. “I didn’t...match.”
“You may not have our DNA, but you were—are—the missing piece to our family. We were incomplete without you.” Hermom wiped at tears streaming down her cheek. “You are our daughter.”
