Chapter Eight

Tyler tapped his finger against the counter as the recpetionist flicked through her records. Behind him, Nora stood, watching the same receptionist with the same expression. They were both worried for Camille. Whatever had possessed her to ring him like that obviously deserved attention, and concern. He all but ran to the local hospital, St Francis', and pummelled through the entrance doors with Nora fast on his heels, and as out of breath as he was, he managed to fill in the receptionist on what he needed to know. She cocked an eyebrow at him, a curiously dangerous expression on her face.

"If he's on life support, no-one besides family is allowed to see him," she warned, her eyes as sharp as needles. Tyler gazed back at her, a calm mask overcoming his sudden need to lash at her.

"I understand, ma'am. All we want to know is if a guy by the name of Robert is in this hospital on life support after a serious car accident." She continued to watch him, not straying anywhere near her keyboard to check for him. Nora stepped up from behind him.

"Please, we need to know. A friend of ours had just found out that he may be dying, and she never heard the news he was in a car crash in the first place until she arrived home with us after being overseas," she looked heartbrokenly to the receptionist. "She's already in St Mark's across the city trying to find out where he is, as no-one bothered to tell her."

A spark twinkled in the receptionist's eye, and she sighed. "Be that as it may, she will not be allowed to see him, even if he is in this hospital." Regardless, she tapped away at the computer, her eyes glued to the screen, as the hustle and bustle of the entrance doors opened and frantically closed with arrivals and departures. Tyler turned his head to watch them, children, mothers, families, the homeless, carted in on gurneys, or walking out with a smile, or a creased look of concern on their faces.

He sighed, slowly beginning to catch his breath. Nora folded her arms and watched the sights with him, and they both started when they heard the receptionist call them over.

"There are two Robert's in this hospital, both in on life supports," she said simply. "One Robert Phillips, a fifty year old who came in last week." Tyler shook his head, knowing Camille would never ring him if it was someone like that, as heartless as it sounded. It felt more like she made a connection with this mysterious guy, whoever he seemed to be. The receptionist nodded her head in reply, before saying, "And there is a Robert Alexander, in here since five months ago. Brought in after a serious motor accident involving three cars," she stopped as she read the file onscreen.

Tyler pushed himself forward on the counter he leaned on, and Nora looked at the receptionist with an anxious face. "I'm afraid he's going to be taken off life support," she said simply. "He hasn't woken up since he was brought in here, and with the severity of his injuries, the doctors decided to close down his case. It's so sad," she added, a tear coming to her seemingly stern face. "It says here, he managed to save a little girl by jumping in front of the cars as they came for her."

Tyler stopped. He felt a shiver of something slide down his spine. He thought of Camille, and knew. He just knew. This was the guy she was talking about.

The receptionist looked up to him, a wish in her eyes that what they heard had nothing to do with them. "Is that your guy?" Tyler looked to her, looked right into her eyes, and nodded wordlessly.

That would be the kind of guy Camille would be worried about. No, he shook his head. Not worried, downright terrified for.

He pulled out his phone and swallowed. He looked to Nora, who carried the face of an angel who'd lost all that she ever wanted. God, he was so lucky to have her. She put a hand on his shoulder, resisiting the urge to cry for his sister. He dialled her number, and waited for her answer before he told her what she needed to know.