Page 74 of When the Smoke Clears

She folds her hands in her lap. “I’m the youngest of the big Wild brood. I learned how to read people a long time ago. Especially my big brother.”

I press my lips together. “I’m still piecing it together. Can you do me a favor?”

“Anything. Want a cookie? A book?” She grins, but her eyes are serious.

Another breathy laugh escapes me, tinged with pain. “Maybe later. Right now, I need you to call Gabe. I need to see him and Isla.”

Eden’s brow lifts. “They were here earlier. I tried the cookie-and-book trick, but Gabe dragged Isla out of here to get some rest. She seemed really freaked out.”

My chest tightens, imagining Isla back in this place where her last memories are some of the worst of her life. “Please call Gabe and tell him I’m doing better, that I need to see Isla.”

She reaches out, squeezes my hand. “I’ll keep everyone busy so you can talk.”

A wave of gratitude warms me. “Thank you.”

She slips from the room, and I sink back into the pillow, closing my eyes.

When the door creaks open again, Gabe steps inside first, shoulders tense, and then Isla peeks around him. Her wide eyes lock onto mine.

Gabe lets out a long breath, his shoulders visibly relaxing. “Good to see you awake.”

“Eden mentioned you were here,” I say, my voice still hoarse.

He nods. “We were driving down Main Street when we spotted the ambulance racing by, lights flashing. We turned around and followed it. Got there just in time to see the paramedics working on you.”

Gabe’s phone vibrates in his pocket, prompting him to slide it out with urgency.

His eyes flick over the screen, and his expression hardens as he strides purposefully toward the door. “I’ll be right back.”

Isla watches him leave, her gaze lingering on the spot where he just stood before shifting to me. Her eyes sweep over my battered body, taking in the bruises and bandages. Her top lip quivers, and unshed tears shimmer in her eyes, pooling at the corners but refusing to spill.

I stretch out my hand toward her, palm open. “Come here.”

Isla slips her small hand into mine, gripping it with surprising strength before glancing at the monitors beside my bed. She meets my gaze, and a soft smile tugs at her lips.

“What?” I ask.

She smirks. “I was watching your heart rate. It spiked when we walked in.”

I frown, waiting for her to continue.

“But when I sat down and held your hand, your pulse jumped for a moment and then dropped lower than before,” she continues, a glint of amusement in her eyes.

“That can’t be right,” I protest, shaking my head against the rough hospital pillow. “You’ve always made my blood pressure skyrocket.”

Isla laughs, a light, melodic sound that warms my chest. “No, I think you still like me a little bit.”

I narrow my eyes playfully. “That’s not possible. What am I going to do with my life if I’m not using your disappearance as an excuse to push everyone away?”

“Maybe you could try letting people in?”

“And what about you?” I counter. “You’ve been living in fear for ten years. Are you ready to let people in?”

She raises my hand to her mouth, pressing a tender kiss to my knuckles with her soft lips. “I’d like to try. So, maybe don’t die on me.”

Her words land, soft and sharp all at once. Let people in. As if I didn’t build this whole life on the smoking crater she left behind.

“I’m not going anywhere. I could get out of this bed and run a marathon if they’d let me.”