A Fallen Heart by Cate Ashwood Page A

dare,” he warned.
    She made a motion like she was zipping her lips but giggled anyway.
    “Your patient was awake about an hour ago. I’m not sure if he’s still up, but you’re welcome to peek in and see.”
    “Room two, right?”
    “Yep,” she confirmed.
    Nash glanced at the clock over the desk, his expectations remaining conservative. It was nearing midnight, but Ford seemed so optimistic that he couldn’t help but hope.
    The hallway leading to the rooms was dimly lit, and Nash could see the light spilling out from under Joel’s door before they reached it. Peering in through the window, he could see him sitting on the bed, reading what looked to be a National Geographic magazine.
    Ford knocked softly, and Joel straightened, like a deer caught in a hunter’s crosshairs.
    They stepped into the room and closed the door behind them.
    Nash had never been in any of the patient rooms before, but they were infinitely more depressing than the main space. Stark white walls housed nothing but a simple bed in the corner. Everything was white and clinical. He supposed there was good reason behind the sparseness of the room, but it was dismal.
    “Hey, Joel, how are you feeling?” Ford asked gently.
    He didn’t say anything, his eyes wary and trained on Nash.
    “This is my friend,” Ford said. “He helped you yesterday. Do you remember?”
    Joel nodded.
    “We wanted to come and see how you were feeling.”
    Nash could barely believe it was the same kid. He still looked like he needed a handful of good meals and some decent sleep, but the sallowness was gone from his skin and his expression was more alert. The drugged-out appearance from the day before was missing, and now he looked younger than ever, some of his youthfulness restored. It was amazing, the difference a day could make.
    They sat and talked with him, or rather Ford did most of the talking, with Nash chiming in occasionally. Every so often, Joel would nod or shake his head, and the longer they spent with him, the more relaxed he seemed to become. He never spoke, but Nash felt as though they were making progress with him anyway. He wasn’t sure which he was happier to see, Joel relaxing or how pleased Ford was when Joel responded to him, albeit wordlessly, but with a response nonetheless. Nash could almost feel the happiness emanating off him, like each tiny movement was a grand achievement. Nash couldn’t help the dopey grin plastered to his face watching the two of them interact. Joel’s hand was tucked firmly between both of Ford’s, and he shuffled closer when Ford sat next to him on the bed.
    He didn’t know Joel’s story, but maybe in time he’d be able to tell them. It was obvious he and Ford shared some sort of connection, and it was sweet to watch, as though, in a single day, Ford had become Joel’s older brother. Trauma had the ability to forge bonds as efficiently as it shattered lives. It was incredible to witness something good come out of such a horrific situation.
    Ford was midstory about his little brother when it was becoming obvious that Joel was fighting a losing battle against the need to sleep.
    “We should probably let Joel get some rest,” Nash said gently, placing his hand on Ford’s arm.
    Ford paused a second. “He’s right,” he told Joel. “You should rest. I’ll come visit you again tomorrow if that’s okay?”
    Joel nodded again, and Ford beamed.
    “Okay. Have a good sleep, and we’ll see you soon.”
    Nash wasn’t sure if Ford had meant the “we,” but a bus crashing through the side of the building would have been less obvious to Nash.
    They said good night and left Joel to get some rest.
    “He seems to be doing better,” Ford said, his voice more animated than Nash had heard it before.
    “Yeah, it’s amazing how quickly kids bounce back,” Maddy said. “He’s still got a long road ahead of him, but I think he’ll be all right.”
    “Are they going to be transferring him out of here