“Your grandson is here.”
Margaret exhaled so hard her shoulders shook.
“Is he all right?”
“He has a fractured wrist.”
“Several cuts.”
“Possible mild concussion.”
“They’re keeping him for observation.”
“Can I see him?”
Olivia looked toward Richard.
That tiny glance told Margaret everything.
Paperwork.
Departments.
Rules.
Richard said:
“They're arranging transfer to a room.”
“What room?”
“Not assigned yet.”
“Then take me downstairs.”
“We can't discharge you into the emergency department waiting area.”
“I'm not asking to be discharged into it.”
“Mrs. Holloway—”
“I want to see him.”
Richard kept his voice controlled.
“You are also a patient.”
“And he is my grandson.”
Bear looked between them.
Margaret’s breathing quickened.
He leaned slightly closer.
“Hey.”
She looked at him.
“Michael's here.”
“Yes.”
“He's alive.”
“Yes.”
“Talking.”
“Yes.”
“Hold onto that.”
Margaret nodded.
Bear continued.
“Everything else can take ten minutes.”
Her breathing slowed.
Richard watched.
Something in his expression changed.
He had spent twenty minutes trying to calm her through policy.
The biker did it in four sentences.
Olivia noticed too.
Then the overhead speaker called her name.
She excused herself.
Richard looked at Bear.
“You seem good with her.”
Bear shrugged.
“She knows what she needs.”
Margaret stared at Richard.
He cleared his throat.
“Once Michael is assigned a room, we can arrange a brief visit.”
“Brief?”
“Mrs. Holloway.”
She sighed.
“Fine.”
Richard stepped aside.
“I still need to address your discharge plan.”
The fear returned instantly.
Bear saw it.
Margaret said:
“Michael can't take me home with a broken wrist and concussion.”
“That is correct.”
“So now you’ll keep me.”
“Or identify another responsible adult.”
Margaret laughed bitterly.
“There isn't one.”
Richard opened his clipboard.
“Any neighbor?”
“No.”
“Friend?”
“Most are dead.”
He paused.
“Church member?”
“I stopped attending.”
“Extended family?”
“No.”
She looked down.
“That's the problem with eighty.”
“You outlive your backup plans.”
Bear’s jaw tightened.
Richard nodded sympathetically.
“Then temporary supervised placement remains—”
Margaret touched Bear’s arm.
Richard stopped.
Bear looked down.
Her expression had changed.
Embarrassment.
Fear.
Determination.
She leaned closer.
Her voice became almost nothing.
“Please pretend you're my grandson.”
Bear stared.
Margaret immediately regretted it.
She looked away.
“I’m sorry.”
“That was foolish.”
Bear said nothing.
She continued quickly.
“You don't know me.”
“You’re waiting for someone.”
“I shouldn't have asked.”
Bear lowered himself from the chair.
Onto one knee.
The movement made Richard step backward instinctively.
Bear was suddenly at Margaret’s eye level.
Not towering.
Not intimidating.
Just there.
“Margaret.”
It was the first time he used her first name.
She looked at him.
His eyes were unexpectedly gentle.
“For tonight.”