Chapter 2

Siobhan let out a muffled yawn as she packed the rest of her supplies into the back of her jeep. Trust the universe to put a calf in a ditch on the very same night as the food fair! Jumping into the driver's seat, she buckled up, rubbing her hands together in an effort to generate some heat before starting up the vehicle and driving away.

It may have been the middle of the night but she took her time regardless, turning on the radio just in time to catch Met Éireann.

"…and again, please do try to stay indoors and try not to make any unnecessary journeys. Storm Theresa should dissipate by morning but a Status Orange warning remains until 7:00 am…"

"Well missy, I have a lovely comfy bed to go home to, so don't you worry!" Siobhan chuckled to herself as the DJ regained control on the airwaves.

"…Well, for anyone who has the unfortunate luck to be stuck with Storm Theresa, here's something to keep you company. One of the biggest hits over the last few months…"

Peter didn't know what the hell to do. Chasing Assumpta into the pouring rain had ruined his garments which meant that he had ended up back at his own house, changing into his casual wear. Sinking into the soft armchair in the living room, he placed his head in his hands. His stomach was in knots. Should he have followed her? Knowing Assumpta, she probably wanted to be alone for a while. Whatever the case, he couldn't seem to shake the impending sense of guilt creeping up within himself.

She awoke slowly to the sound of rain pattering down around her. Her eyes snapped open, to find not her bedroom but the crumpled remains of her Renault. As panic filled her heart, she tried her hardest to push open the driver's door, again and again but to no avail. Conscious but disoriented, Assumpta wasn't going to give up. She wasn't going to give whoever was up there the satisfaction.

As she neared Ballykissangel, Siobhan let out a sigh at the sight of the fallen tree trunk. As if this trip could get any longer! Rolling her eyes, she was about to ring Ambrose when a blinking set of headlights caught her eye.

The shrill sound of the landline phone reverberated throughout the living room. Glancing at the ticking wall clock at the opposite end of the room, Peter took in the time with a confused expression. He must have slept right through to daybreak if the sunlight streaming through the window was anything to go by. Rubbing his eyes, he almost didn't pick it up. Deep down however, he knew he couldn't ignore his duties. So, he cleared his throat and answered the call.

"Hello?"

Peter's association with the Church had a positive impact for once, granting him access to the ward, albeit after some confusion because of his civvies. Fortunately, Michael had spotted the priest's exasperated quarrel with the receptionist and vouched for him.

All the usual suspects were there. Siobhan gestured widely as she spoke to Ambrose, who seemed to be taking a statement from her. Brendan stood beside her, massaging her back gently in a comforting gesture - a sight that would have normally warmed Peter's heart if it wasn't for the present circumstances. Padraig blankly stared at the opposite wall as he sat on one of the metal chairs beside a frazzled-looking Niamh, who was juggling a restless Kieran in her arms. She noticed him first, her voice trembling just a little as she spoke.

"Peter..!"

Everyone glanced up at him, their expressions softening into looks of pity and sadness. Peter could hear Michael informing him that they couldn't enter while the doctor was examining Assumpta. He merely nodded as he put one foot in front of the other, making his way over to the small glass window to her room. It took a few moments to get a proper look at her, but when he eventually could, it took Peter's breath away.

Assumpta's features were dotted with various cuts and scrapes. Her skin was pale, from a distance almost looking ghostly white. Various tubes and wires connected her to the monitors that were beeping at a steady rate. Her hair fanned around her as her head lay on the pillow. Tears pricked at the back of Peter's eyes as the guilt that had lodged in his stomach increased tenfold. If only he had stopped her. If only he hadn't kissed her back. If only he hadn't confessed.

If only.

His thoughts were interrupted at the sight of the doctor exiting the room. Peter turned to face the middle-aged man, lips parted to speak. However, somebody else beat him to it.

"How is she?"

Peter glanced over at the direction of the voice and came face-to-face with its source.

"Leo."