Chapter 118

And so I just curl up against mom at the head of the bed, listening to my dad and my brother fight about whether or not I should be at the school, and what the hell Rafe was thinking taking me there, and how I’ve survived so far. I can hear Rafe supplying information that Jackson told when they were away at the shower, apparently, about the identity of the cadet who shot me with a crossbow and whether or not he has a further vendetta against me, but I quickly find myself slipping into sleep as I lean against mom.

“Come on, baby,” I hear mom murmur from my half daze. I blink into consciousness, realizing that dad and Rafe are still going at it, and then I look up at mom next to me. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” she says, unhooking me from the IV and tugging me away.

I nod, following her to the second door in the room, yawning as we pass through it and a few more doors before we enter a pretty utilitarian private bathing chamber. She helps me strip down and then I shower as mom fills me in, quietly and calmingly, on the gossip from home. Markie is fine he doesn’t like school, loves sports, wants a pet squirrel more than anything in the world. Juniper hates everything, apparently, and won’t wear anything but black dyed her hair black, too, in a fit of rebellion.

I smirk, thinking fondly of my taciturn little sister, missing her with a sudden intensity that surprises me. But I dry off with a scratchy towel and then pull on the supplied one–size–fits- all–Alpha pajamas – which, obviously, swim on me. But mom laughs and helps me pull the drawstring of the pants tight before leading me out into the hospital room again and back to the bed.

Dad and Rafe, I’m interested to see, have fallen silent and aren’t looking at each other.

“So,” mom says, overly cheerful. “Did we men come to any decisions about Ariel’s fate in the world without consulting her?”

Rafe balks a little bit, staring at my mom, because he has been fighting for me for the past few hours. She just winks at him, because the critique was mostly for my dad.

“Enough, Ella,” dad murmurs, massaging his temple with his left hand. “We decided to pick it up again tomorrow, after we’ve all slept on it. We’re not getting anything done here anyway.”

“Wow, you’re kidding me, I thought you were making such progress,” mom murmurs with over– cheerful sarcasm as she tucks me into bed. Dad just glares at her half–heartedly before turning to me, leaning down to give me a kiss on the cheek and then run his hand over my

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“I love you, Ariel,” he says, and I look up at him, hoping he can see in my face all the love I

so much that it aches. His face falls a little then, and I smile, have for him in my heart because I think he sees it. “I just want what’s best for you.”

–

“I know, pops,” I murmur, reaching for him, wanting a hug. Dad obliges me, wrapping me up tight for a long, long moment. And then he lets me lay back down in the bed, standing up. As soon as my head hits the pillow, my eyes start to drift shut.

“We’ll see you for breakfast, baby,” mom whispers, also leaning down to give me a kiss. ” You just sleep tight for now.”

I murmur my assent, and then I’m asleep, the last thing I hear three sets of footsteps leaving the room, my brother’s whispered goodnight as he switches off the light.