Page 54 of The Candle Palace (Jamison Valley 6)
So did I.
I hoped to bring her home one day. If the stars aligned, I’d get to introduce her to my extended family, coworkers and friends. But first, I had to get the fuck out of this hospital and track down my girl.
It had been a week since she’d fallen asleep in my bed. A week since I’d fucked up royally by drifting off. I’d gotten too caught up in the incredible feel of her snuggling into my side.
She’d run out of this room and I’d called her countless times. When she didn’t show up for work hours later, I knew things were bad. It took almost an entire day for her to answer my calls. Even then, I knew something was wrong. Her voice wasn’t soft and sweet like normal. It was edgy and despondent.
She assured me that she had not been fired. That she had been asked to take a vacation until I was released. She promised she was fine, just exhausted and not feeling well.
Even through the phone I could hear her lie. Something big was bothering her and even after a week, she wouldn’t open up about it. Stuck in my room, there wasn’t much for me to do but keep calling.
The phone was my only tool and I never let up. I called her throughout the day. I called again at night. I called even though our conversations were shallow and short.
Sara—my Sara, the woman whose smile could light up a room and whose voice could calm a hurricane—was missing.
Today, I was going to find her.
“Any questions?” Kym asked.
I shook my head. “Nope.”
Dr. Vernon had given me a full rundown of the post-care instructions. Keep my skin moisturized to avoid scarring. Wear sunscreen. Blah. Blah. Blah.
I hadn’t even waited until he’d left the room to get out of bed, rifle through my backpack and dress in jeans and a button-down shirt.
“Take care,” I told Kym, already heading for the door.
“You too, Milo. And, um . . .” She lowered her voice, a smile playing on her lips. “Good luck with Sara. I’m rooting for you two.”
I smiled. “Thanks. For everything.”
She wasn’t Sara, but as a nurse, she’d done a fine job.
I was healed for the most part. The grafts had taken well—I was covered in skin again. The less severe burns were slowly fading from red to pink. And other than the scars on my forehead and another under my jaw, the rest of them I’d hide from the world.
As I walked out of the room, my jeans felt rough on my thighs. I’d been in paper-thin cotton for so long, it was a welcome change to feel something worth its weight. The boots on my feet were loud and heavy. I’d never wear slippers again. I was thrilled to be in a shirt that actually went to my wrists and hid my burns.
Damn but I’d missed real clothes. I grinned as I reached the elevator, the excitement of being free.
Good-bye burn unit. Good-bye Candle Palace.
I patted the small battery-powered tea light in my pocket.
Then I stepped onto the elevator and rode down to go and find the real light from this palace.
My Sara.
SARA
“Ugh,” I groaned as the doorbell rang.
Why did the UPS guy have to ring the doorbell? He was bringing me toilet paper and coffee K-Cups from Amazon. Leave it and go, dude.
The doorbell I was obligated to answer. What if he needed me to sign for my toilet paper and coffee K-Cups? I shoved myself up and off the couch, annoyed that I’d get to the door just in time to see him dart inside his brown truck. I didn’t want to see him as much as he didn’t want to see me. Stupid freaking doorbell.
I pulled the cardigan around my front, covering up the thin tank top I was wearing because it was cold outside. Then I put on my smile and opened the door.
“Thank—”
