Chapter 14 – Waiting is the Hardest Part of Life
The harsh lights in the clinic waiting room made it hard to keep my eyes open. I could feel a headache building behind my eyes as my temple throbbed in time with their own heartbeat. A persistent buzzing sound coming from the light just over the automatic doors was threatening to shatter my tenuous hold on sanity. This park was a multi-billion dollar operation, was it too much to ask that the lights weren't bright enough to cause blindness and didn't emit the most annoying sound in the world?
Lowery grunted, launching into another round of snoring that sounded like a combination of a seal dying and a chainsaw cutting through cement. I take it back; the buzzing sound was the second most annoying sound in the world.
Closing my eyes I massaged my temples as I rolled my stiff shoulders trying to gain some sort of physical relief from a pain so deeply rooted I felt it in my bones. I'd given up trying for a respite from the mental torment. It had been hours since we'd handed Jo off to the medical team tasked with saving her life. Hours of sitting in a small, metal chair under blaring, fluorescent, buzzing lights with nothing to go on. No update from the surgeon, no reassurance from a nurse. There was just…nothing. I was slowly going insane. I needed to know what was going on.
Something.
Anything.
I couldn't handle another minute of being in limbo. The hollowness in my chest was a weight I couldn't bear. It was pushing down on me from all angles threatening to bury me. Sitting in this waiting room with nothing but my thoughts to distract me was a sadistic kind of torture. Every scenario racing through my exhausted mind got worse and worse as time drug on at an excruciatingly slow pace. The black of midnight had given way to early morning as the sun began peeking over the horizon in the distance. When night had suddenly turned to day I couldn't recall. Somehow the anguish of waiting simultaneously felt like minutes and years ticking by at the same time. The passage of time marked only by the ache in my heart, and the waking nightmares continuously flashing before my eyes.
A cup of coffee was thrust into my field of vision. Leaning back slowly I looked up, blinking several times as the figure before me blurred. Squeezing my eyes closed I rubbed them against the slight burning sensation. Looking back up I saw Barry's familiar frame swim into my vision.
"Here," he said, handing me the cup of coffee, "Drink this before you pass out."
Grabbing the cup I looked down at the dark liquid, the faint aroma of stale coffee tickling my nose. My brain was slow to action, but I knew I needed the cheap caffeine to keep me upright. Chugging the burning liquid in a few swallows caused the bitter substance to scald my tongue. I winced slightly, whipping my mouth as Barry sighed heavily before falling into the seat next to me, nursing his own cup. Crushing the small, Styrofoam cup I tossed it into a nearby trashcan.
"How are you holding up?" he asked. Turning my head I looked blankly at him. The only plausible answer I could come up with involved my middle finger. "Yeah, stupid question. Sorry."
I smiled slightly, returning my gaze to the double doors leading to the operating rooms. Maybe if I just stared hard enough someone would magically appear like in a Harry Potter movie. Lowery shifted in his seat across from me, stretching his legs out as he head fell forward, his chin coming to rest on his chest. His snores were getting progressively louder. Hamada sat beside him still as a statue, looking about as emotional as a cyborg. He appeared to be in some kind of trance, or maybe he was meditating. Whatever he was doing I had no idea how he'd remained motionless for what felt like hours. In all the time we'd been sitting here I remembered him moving exactly once.
Unexpectedly Hamada's hand shot out, smacking Lowery on the back of the head with a 'thwack'. Lowery jerked suddenly as he sat up, his snores ceasing with his arrival back to the land of the conscious.
OK, now I'd seen Hamada move twice.
"What? Huh?" Lowery mumbled, wiping the sleep from his eyes.
He gazed around the room, trying to figure out what had woken him. He looked about as confused as a goat on Astro Turf. His eyes passed over the three of us, his eyebrows raised in question. Barry had his head against the wall, his eyes closed and Hamada was back to impersonating the statue of David, albeit with clothes. Thank god. I shook my head more to keep myself awake than at Lowery's predicament. The guy was as smart as a whip if it involved computers, but he didn't have enough common sense to spit downwind. I could explain it to him, but I couldn't understand it for him.
"Owen Grady?" a voice called out, shattering the near silence in the waiting room. My head snapped up as the surgeon made his way over to us still clad in his pale green scrubs and surgical cap. All four of us stood up at once.
"I'm Owen Grady." I answered, taking a step towards him.
"I'm Dr. Kondrat, your wife's attending surgeon." Barry choked on his coffee as Hamada's eyes narrowed in on me like a laser beam. Lowery still just looked confused
"My wife," I parroted back, shaking his extended hand. Dr. Kondrat looked around the room taking in everyone's shocked expression before continuing.
"I apologize, I just assumed you were family," he stumbled over the words. "Her medical power of attorney has you listed as the agent responsible for making healthcare decisions in an event such as this."
It did? Since when? She'd never said anything.
"Its fine," I assured him. Being mistaken as Jo's husband was an error I was more than willing to overlook. In fact, I was astutely avoiding the feeling of utter elation the title provoked. "How is she?"
His heavy sigh made me want to puke all over the pristine waiting room floor.
"We just moved her into recovery in the ICU. The surgery was quiet extensive given the gravity of her injuries. The metal shard embedded in her upper chest cavity lacerated her spleen causing massive internal hemorrhaging. We were able to repair it, but it required two transfusions due to blood loss and she coded on the table twice."
"Coded?"
"Her heart stopped," he clarified. My knees gave out and I fell into the chair. My heart was beating so fast I felt like I couldn't breathe even though breathing was the only thing I was doing at the moment. Dr. Kondrat sat down in front of me, his eyes softening. "Try to stay calm Mr. Grady. Take a slow breath in through your nose; hold it for a few seconds then release it out through your mouth."
I did as he instructed trying to stop hyperventilating. If I wasn't scared shitless I'd be humiliated that Barry, Lowery and Hamada were witnessing my breakdown, but I was way past the point of appearances. I didn't give two fucks about false pretenses.
Her heart had stopped. Twice.
She'd died. Twice.
I kept repeating the phrases over and over again in my mind hoping to make sense of them.
"That's good Mr. Grady," the doctor praised.
"Owen."
"I'm sorry?"
"You can call me Owen. Mr. Grady is my father."
"Alright Owen," he chuckled, continuing on with Jo's extensive list of injuries, "As I explained, her surgery was difficult, but she's one tough woman. We have her in the ICU and the next 72 hours will be critical. While the laceration of her spleen was the most critical of her injuries we have other matters to concern ourselves with as well."
"Like?" This conversation was about as enjoyable as a prostate exam.
"For the moment I'm concerned about the swelling in her brain. She sustained a Grade 2 concussion which has caused enough trauma I've decided to keep her in a medically induced coma until some of the swelling in her brain subsides."
Yeah, it was official, I was going to puke.
Lacerated spleens, blood transfusions, medically induced comas; it was like something out of a horror flick. I couldn't listen to this. I couldn't hear this man describe these life threatening injuries about the woman who was my life with such clinical detachment. My brain knew he didn't mean to sound callous, but my heart wasn't on the same page. He sounded like he was debating where he was going to eat lunch.
When I didn't respond Barry spoke up, "How long?"
He eyed me critically before turning to Barry. "It's difficult to say. We'll monitor her closely and if things progress in the right direction we may be able to bring her out of the coma in a few days."
"So she's going to be alright?" Barry asked, the hope clear in this voice.
"We're going to do our best to ensure…"
"Will she make it?" I cut him off. I didn't want the runaround. Good or bad, I needed the truth.
He regarded me carefully before pulling off his surgical cap, his lips pulled into a thin line. "If she survives the next 24 hours she got a good chance. Every hour she survives after that her odds improve dramatically, but I have to warn you," he paused, carefully selecting his next words. "Even if she survives the next 24 hours her body has sustained massive trauma. By all medical standards she should never have survived the trip to the clinic. You need to prepare yourself for the possibility that she may never wake up."
"But you said you'd take her out of the coma in a few days."
"We don't know what kind of damage her brain sustained from the crash or the multiple times her heart stopped. There's a chance she suffered irreparable brain damage. If she wakes up we'll know more."
The unspoken declaration that she may never wake up hung in the air like an odor. Everyone looked distraught, unable to process the reality laid at our feet.
I've never been particularly receptive to the status quo. It wasn't necessarily that I was in denial per say. It was more that I was exceptionally selective about the reality I choose to accept. Needless to say this was one reality that could fuck off.
"When she wakes up."
"Pardon?" he asked, confused.
"You said if. Clearly you don't know her. That woman is the most stubborn, tenacious, willful person I know. She'll wake up."
"Amen," Barry said, clapping me on the back in support. Hamada stood up, crossing his arms over his chest almost daring the surgeon to disagree with me. Lowery shook his head in agreement as Dr. Kondrat took in our ragtag group.
"I believe I had it right the first time Owen," he addressed me, standing up. "You are Ms. King's family."
He briefly shook my hand again assuring me he would let the nursing staff know that visiting hours wouldn't apply to us, and that he'd be in to check on Jo later in the day. He made a point of explaining what we could expect when we saw Jo. He was preparing us for the shock of seeing her so incapacitated. Little did I know his warnings wouldn't even begin to touch the level of distress seeing her would cause. Moments after he departed a nurse came out to escort me to the ICU wing.
"Mr. Grady, we just got her settled. I can take you back now if you like?" she smiled, gesturing to the doors behind her.
I nodded at her, turning to the guys. "Why don't ya'll go home, get some rest. I'll stay here with her."
"I'll stop by your place and grab you a bag before I come back," Barry offered.
"Sounds good," I told him, "Thanks, all of you, for being here." I coughed to cover up the emotion in my voice.
"You don't have to thank us," Hamada stated plainly. "She would have done the same for us."
"Damn straight," Barry confirmed.
"Nowhere else I'd rather be," Lowery chimed in at the same time.
They made their way out of the clinic as I fell in step behind the nurse. The walk down the hallway was made in silence. The nurse was busy tapping away on the iPad in her hand while I simply didn't have the brain function to initiate intelligible small talk. It was a minor miracle I was upright and walking. It had been well over 24 hours since I'd slept, and while there was a time pulling all-nighters was commonplace for me that time in my life had long since passed. I had a hard time pulling all-dayers now. Why naps were restricted to children was a mystery? To avoid the ridicule associated with my preference for napping I'd taken to referring to them as horizontal life pauses. They term was really catching on at the raptor paddock.
The nurse stopped at the first ICU door, swinging it open and leading me inside. The room was bare save for a few chairs pushed back against the opposite wall and a small bedside table. The walls were so white they were almost blinding, and the smell of antiseptic and bleach permeated the air. I already hated this room and I hadn't even laid eyes on the worst part. Would it kill someone to bring a color wheel into this place?
The nurse moved towards the single bed pushed up against the wall in the absolute center of the room. She fiddled with some machines and adjusted various knobs on all the medical equipment before she was satisfied then turned to me with another kind smile.
"I'll just be out front. If you need anything push this button," she explained, holding up the red nurse call button attached to the bed. I nodded mutely at her, unable to tear my eyes away from the beds occupant. The nurse moved towards the door, but paused briefly before leaving. "You should talk to her. Hold her hand. It'll help."
From her tone it sounded like she was implying it might help me more than Jo. She left without another word, the door sliding closed with a soft click. Clearing my throat I shuffled over towards the bed, the faint sounds of the heart monitor drawing my attention. I watched with morbid fascination as the small line raced across the screen, jutting up sharply at regular intervals signaling her heartbeat. My eyes flicked back down to the bed and I suddenly found it hard to breathe.
She was lying in bed, thin covers pulled up around her waist and delicately tucked into the edges of the bed. I counted four different lines connected to numerous parts of her body and traced them back to various IV bags filled with medication that were hanging slightly behind her bed. She was intubated, a small plastic tube taped to her mouth to keep it in place, a ventilator breathing for her. Her face was deathly pale, to the point of almost being translucent. The only color present was the blooming black and blue of a massive bruise forming along her temple.
Dragging a chair from the wall I moved it directly beside her bed. Sitting down I cradled her small hand in my own. She was so cold that if the monitors behind me weren't proof she was alive I'd be certain she was dead. She looked small, so fragile it was shocking. I didn't want to see her like this, but at the same time I couldn't look away. The sight of her now a clear reminder of how close she'd come to death. Of how perilous her situation remained.
Gently I laid my head down against her arm, careful not to hurt the multitude of small cuts and scrapes that had been meticulously cleaned. I kissed the back of her hand as a tear slipped down my face. Later I would blame my emotional outburst on exhaustion or stress, but the real cause was much simpler, my heart was breaking.
"The nurse says talking will help," I began, feeling unsure about conversing with a woman in a medically induced coma. I felt ridiculous, but would endure much more than stupidity if it meant Jo opening her eyes. I'd do just about anything if it meant she got better. "I need you to come back to me. If for no other reason than because you are currently sporting a pink colored cast on your wrist."
I laughed, picking my head up to look at the neon pink monstrosity. Taking a second look at it I was fairly certain it was more fuchsia than pink, but I wasn't sure. One thing I was positive about was that it was hideous. It was like they had hand-picked the color in the hopes it would piss her off so much she'd be forced back to the land of the living just to bitch them out. It wasn't out of the realm of possibility.
"You'd absolutely hate it," I continued, my gaze dropping back to her face, my mood sobering. Swallowing thickly I cleared my throat. "You remember our deal, right? Well, I held up my end of the bargain and now I need you to hold up yours. You can't leave me here Jo, do you hear me? I can't…"
I didn't know what to say. How do you put into words a feeling so all-encompassing the loss of it was too complex to understand? I desperately wanted to trade places with her. My life for hers seemed like a more than fair trade. One I'd make willingly. It wasn't that I couldn't face a world without her. It was that I didn't want to. She deserved the opportunity to live, be happy, and grow old. Life had been too harsh with her up until this point. A little contentment was warranted in my book, and if my life could grant her that chance then so be it. A world devoid of Jo's spirit would turn my universe into one I didn't recognize.
The irony that she would hate the mere insinuation of anyone trading their life for hers wasn't lost on me. What's more, it was irrelevant. The opportunity to switch places with her in order to save her this lot in life had long since passed. In an effort to drag my mind away from such macabre thoughts I focused instead on one of our last conversations.
"Do you remember when we had that rousing discussion about soul mates?" The steady rise and fall of her chest courtesy of the ventilator was my only response. "You were so adamant the entire concept was bullshit. Something manufactured by Hallmark to sell greeting cards and jewelry."
I laughed in earnest remembering her impassioned speech regarding the entire conversation. She abhorred the idea of some mythical predestination that determined two people's course in life. It was all "bullshit derived from corporate greed to sell lonely souls on the idea there was that special someone waiting for them just around the corner" was her exact quote.
It wasn't that she rallied against the idea of love or even everlasting love. It was the concept that a person's choice in the matter was taken from them. The idea that someone would love merely because they had to and not because they wanted to was something she refused to acknowledge. She'd had too many occasions in her life where her choices had taken from her. She refused to believe in a concept that took away her power to decide who she did and did not love.
"I didn't say it then, but I agree with you. Soul mates is an idea best left to fairy tales or those cheesy romance novels with half naked Highlanders on the cover that you think I don't know you read," I smiled at her. "I don't love you because you're my soul mate, you're much more than that. You're the love of my life Josephine King."
I smoothed down the hair on the side of her face, brushing away some errant strands.
"Pay attention to this part because it's important. The difference between the two is one implies choice, the other doesn't. I don't love you out of obligation or responsibility. I choose to love you. Today, tomorrow, forever. I will love you till my dying breath…" I choked on the words, exhaling slowly before finishing, "and if there's life after that, I'll love you then too."
Someone cleared their throat softly, and I turned to see Claire standing uncomfortably by the door. She tucked her hair behind her ear, a faint blush sweeping across her cheeks.
"I'm sorry…I didn't…I mean, I shouldn't have," she stuttered, shifting the vase full of flowers from one hand to the other.
I gave her a half smile, shaking my head. "It's fine. You can put those by the bed if you want."
She smiled sadly, setting the arrangement on the small nightstand. Only Claire would be able to produce such an immaculate 'Get Well' arrangement at the crack of dawn mere hours after the accident. I stood up, grabbing a chair from the wall and dragging it over to the opposite side of the bed. She nodded her thanks, sinking down into the chair. She kept her back ramrod straight, her feet delicately crossed at the ankle and tucked beneath the chair as her hands lay one on top of the other in her lap. And only Claire could look regal sitting in a cheap, metal hospital chair. For a few moments the only sounds filling the room were the machines keeping Jo alive.
"How is she?" Claire asked, her voice nothing more than a whisper. I think she was trying to be quiet for Jo's sake. I wanted to tell her she could drop a nuclear bomb outside and she'd be none the wiser.
Exhaling sharply though my mouth I ran my hands through my hair, rubbing my face harshly with my hands. Idly I wondered how many times I'd have to recount this story. I wished I could gather everyone who I knew would come visit Jo and just knock it out all at once. One shot, one kill so to speak. With emotional detachment I ran through each injury she'd sustained along with the resulting actions to save her, finishing with her prognosis. By the time I was done Claire looked about as bad as Jo. I was a little worried she might puke, and made a not so subtle attempt to move the trashcan in her direction.
"I'm fine," she said, waving her hand at the trashcan. "It's just so…"
"Yeah." She didn't have the words to describe it, and I didn't blame her. I didn't either, but horrific, terrifying, and gut-wrenching were high on my list of contenders. "Hamada said you were with her right before."
She shifted in her seat, eyes darting between Jo and me. "Yes, I asked her to come to my office right after she dropped off Enrique here. Originally, I intended to just make sure I had all the pertinent facts before briefing Mr. Masrani, but…"
"Then Wu joined the party," I supplied when she hesitated.
"Yes," she answered. "I don't even know how he knew what happened, but he insisted on staying while I spoke with Jo."
"What did happen?" I already knew Jo and Wu had ended up arguing, but I wanted to know what had instigated the argument. Claire sighed, unsure of how to have a conversation with me about a project I was supposed to have no idea about.
"Owen," she began, resignation heavy in her tone.
"Claire," I cut her off, "You don't have to go into specifics. Hamada already told me the details are need to know and apparently not a lot of people need to know. With that being said, someone tried to kill her," I paused, letting the statement sink in. "If you think for one minute there is even a remote chance I let that slide you're not as smart as I gave you credit for."
She looked at me seriously, her face giving nothing away. If Claire's career at Jurassic World tanked she could make a fortune as a professional poker player.
"You think someone did this intentionally?" Her tone was meant to imply she was shocked, but the disgust in her eyes was clear as day. She didn't believe for a second this was an accident either. My guess was she found the concept of her employees trying to kill each hard to wrap her brain around.
I gave her a dull look by way of a reply, not even bothering to answer her question as I asked a question of my own, "Do you know what set her off?"
"Jo has a different opinion on a park matter than upper management," she started, taking care with the selection of each word. Claire made CIA operatives look like Chatty Cathy's. "She was voicing her displeasure, again, when she suddenly stopped. One minute she was describing what happened with Enrique, and then she just stopped. She looked almost shocked for about a second before she attacked Dr. Wu. The last thing she said before she left was that he was done. I don't have any idea what happened and it was over as quickly as it started."
I believed Claire was ignorant regarding the details surrounding the altercation between Dr. Wu and Jo. She knew about the I-Rex, and was well aware of Jo's displeasure that the animal was still alive, but that was about all she knew. Like everyone, except maybe Dr. Wu, the specifics of the I-Rex were largely unknown. We'd been speculating for weeks about the DNA composition of the animal, but so far all we had was speculation. The smart money said whatever transpired last night between Wu and Jo dealt directly with the genetics of that hybrid. Something had flipped a switch in Jo's head, and she must have been a little too close to the truth for Wu's liking, thus her unscheduled trip off Parador Cliff.
"Can anyone account for Wu's whereabouts directly following the incident?" That slimy mother fucker was responsible for this, I was certain of it.
"Owen," she started, her eyes begging me not to continue. I crossed my arms over my chest, my lips pressed into a thin line. The chances of me letting this go was somewhere in the vicinity of "never going to fucking happen" and "cold chance in hell". Claire's jaw snapped shut, her eyes fiery with indignation. "He was seen on cameras at headquarters until around 11 o'clock at night."
"You're sure? He was accounted for the entire time?"
"Yes, I checked. He never ventured to any area that didn't have direct camera access."
Well, wasn't that fucking convenient. I paused, my eyes narrowing as numerous thoughts raced through my brain at once.
"He was ensuring there was evidence to prove he wasn't involved," I pondered out loud. Claire grimaced, shaking her head. "He was establishing an alibi."
She frowned; obviously distressed at the direction the conversation was taking.
"There's no evidence to support Dr. Wu was involved in her accident. There's no evidence to suggest any of this was anything other than an accident." Claire, always so analytical, always believing the best in everyone. Up until now Claire had been relatively sheltered from the harsh realities of human nature, but the longer she remained on this island the more she realized her perception of the world was definitely not the reality. Even to her own ears the justification must have sounded thin because she looked almost pained saying it.
"You mean other than the impact marks on her Jeep?" Jo's vehicle was a mangled mess of steel, but there was obvious paint transfer from another car on the passenger side door that had nothing to do with the cliff. That, combined with the size and shape of the crush damage, clearly indicated another vehicle had crashed into her.
"I see."
We lapsed into silence, both wrestling with our thoughts. Obviously Wu hadn't been the one to collide with Jo. That much was obvious by his deliberate attempts to be caught on the security cameras. It didn't mean shit as far as I was concerned. He wasn't a man who liked to get his hands dirty. He didn't have the stomach for it. Most likely he'd contracted the work out to someone he trusted inside InGen. Too bad the list of people who would line up for the chance to fling Jo off a cliff was as long as a kids Christmas List to Santa.
"I'm happy for you," Claire said.
"What?"
She smiled gently, gesturing to Jo. "You two are great together. When I first heard about it I was surprised," she began, laughing at the incredulous look on my face. "Hear me out. You both seem so closed off, confrontational, almost hostile most of the time. The thought of the two of you together," she laughed again, "I thought it would be like watching someone try to mix hydrogen and oxygen together in an oven."
A volatile chemical reaction, yeah, I could see that. I grinned at her as she continued.
"But then I saw the two of you at the gala." There was wistfulness in her voice. Like the thought of it made her happy. "You both looked so happy together, so at ease. Well, at least until you both came back from your extended stay in the bathroom."
I laughed in earnest at that. If Claire only knew what had really preceded the events leading up to our sexually charged hallway action she'd be mad enough to spit nails, if not press charges.
"I saw the look on your face when you first saw her that night," she went on. She wasn't looking at me. Her eyes were trained on Jo, unshed tears glistening in her eyes. "She literally took your breath away. I'm not one for romantic gestures. It's simply not in my nature."
I smirked at her. You don't say?
"Shut up," she whipped back at me, no real malice in her voice. Hearing her use such a pedestrian phrase was shocking. Claire was always the picture of professionalism. I was reminded that underneath her coifed suits and perfect hair there was a person. She paused for so long I thought she might be finished, but she sighed before continuing, "I hope one day someone looks at me the way you look at her, even if it's just for a moment."
I didn't know what to say. The longing in her voice was unmistakable. She took one last lingering look at Jo before standing up and moving to the door.
"Claire," I started, the right words stalling on my lips.
She paused, turning back. "I really hope she's OK. You'll call my office if there's any change?"
"Sure."
Without another word she left, quietly closing the door behind her. Leaning back in the chair I stretched my legs out underneath the bed, checking the monitors one last time before my eyes fell shut. The drain of exhaustion something I could no longer fight. I welcomed the blissful unawareness that only sleep could provide, but my mind refused to power down. Too many unknowns were swirling in my head. The doctor had said the next 24 hours were crucial for Jo, but they were also critical in the hunt for those responsible. Every second that passed was another second the trail went cold. If I wanted those responsible to face the consequences of their actions then I needed more information to go on. The persistent beep of the heart monitor was a stark reminder that the man hunt would have to wait, especially considering I had little more to go on than gut instinct.
At the moment my only concern was Jo. She was balancing precariously on the precipice between life and death. The fact that all I could do was wait to see how it played out was brutally unkind. I hated waiting, always had. I didn't know what was worse, waiting, or maintaining any semblance of hope while waiting. As I drifted off I realized the normal tingle of unease that accompanied my aversion to patience was noticeably absent.
The difference struck me like a physical blow. Until now I'd never had anything worth waiting for. My last coherent thought was that if waiting meant being able to hold Jo I was prepared to wait for as long as forever.
LynxOnSmoothies: Welcome Back! I feel your pain with regards to school. I had 3 kids under the age of 1 when I began my advanced degree program. I'm pretty sure I didn't sleep for about 3 years. Good Luck with is all. I hope it is fast and painless :) Thanks for carving out some time your obviously hectic schedule to not only read, but review. You are awesome! I'm glad you enjoyed the latest chapters. I think you are right on the money with Owen having Jo all figured out. She likes to think she's mysterious, but Owen has her number...for sure! Writing the "accident" from Owen's perspective has opened up so many doors I didn't even realize were there. You are right that with Jo we don't see too much before she's off in Never Never Land. Being able to flush the chapters out from Owen's POV has provided the opportunity to fill in some much needed details, and push the story a little further. I don't want to spoil anything, but there is a lot that happens before Jo makes her return. Again, much love for reading/reviewing. We missed you!
jahoney: I've always loved that F. Scott Fitzgerald quote. I find it shockingly accurate. I'm so glad you enjoyed all the nuances of the chapter, characters, plot. Thanks for taking the time to leave such thoughtful reviews. I'm trying get better each chapter so to hear it is progressing is great.
thakidisbac: You know, I didn't realize how emotional these chapters really were until I wrote them from Jo's POV. Maybe it's because by the time Jo knows what is happening she's unconscious. Writing it from Owen's POV has forced me to inject so much emotion not just for him, but all the supporting characters as well. It's kinda fun to keep developing the story. There is so much that happened while Jo was out of it that she is unaware of so it leaves my options open. Yeah! Thanks for reading and reviewing.
BlueEyedPisces: Had to get the Cowboys in...our year is coming (LOL!). I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter. Dr. Wu is a sneaky little bugger, but there is a storm brewing he may not see coming (named Owen). I have some ideas to take the story a few places before Jo makes her triumphant return. Thanks so much for reading and reviewing.
Infernoinside: Welcome! Thanks for such a great compliment. I am over the moon you are enjoying the story. I plan to start the sequel soon as it won't be too much longer before this one is finished. I hope you continue to read...thanks for the review!
CopperMax: If I could do a cartwheel I'd do one for your review. As it is you'll have to settle for a big smile and a fist pump :) I love writing these two so much. I almost wish they were both mine so I could continue writing them in another setting. I am so glad you like the story, and taking the time to review means a lot. It keeps me going and helps me strive to write something that will touch you guys. Hope this one hits the mark!
Kassandra J: I agree with you 100%. These last few chapters have been tough. I didn't know how tough until I started writing it from Owen's POV. I hope you enjoy the supporting chapters that give us some more details on what was happening while Jo was fighting for her life. Thanks for reading and reviewing!
twifan1987: Me too! I'm really leaning that way and have even started thinking about whose POV would be used for which chapter. So much fun! Thanks so much for reading and reviewing!
angelicedg: Man, me too! That guy is just bubbling with insight. He's like Yoda, Confucius and a Ninja all rolled into one. Love writing from his POV now that I've gotten the hang of it. Let me know what you think of this chapter...I hope you like it :)