Craig wearily rubbed his tired eyes. Yet, no amount of exhaustion could make him look forward to returning home. The medical conference had been hellish enough, but his family situation had made the past day or two even worse.

Things with Nancy were steadily worsening, and Craig feared that Sinclair's arrival would be just enough to demolish the crumbling marriage. Combing his hand through his dark hair, Craig forced aside all his personal worries and tried to focus on the medical chart he was reviewing.

Finding no qualms with Dr. Stevenson's diagnosis, Craig indifferently handed the chart to the nurse behind the ER desk. Again, Craig rubbed his face as though he could physically rub away his fatigue. "Tell Dr. Stevenson I'll be in my office if he needs to discuss Mrs. Mitchell."

"Of course, Dr. Wesley," politely answered the nurse.

Turning away from the nurses' station, Craig paid little consideration to the gurney being rushed through the ER as he made his way toward the elevator. Yet, his attention was captured and his tiredness forsaken when he saw Brady following behind the paramedics.

As a nurse turned Brady away from the examination area, Craig swiftly approached him. Placing a hand on the younger man's shoulder, Craig demanded, "Brady, what happened? Is Chloe all right?"

When Brady turned to look at Craig, an empty expression dominated his handsome facial features. Almost in a whisper, Brady finally replied, "Chloe's fine."

A sigh of relief involuntarily escaped Craig's lips. "Thank, God," he muttered. Yet, when Craig returned his full attention to Brady, he knew that it was not quite time to give thanks. "Brady," Craig gently prodded. "Who was on that gurney?"

Before Brady could deliver an answer, Philip and Chloe ran into the emergency room. Craig could see the fear that lurked in both their eyes. He did not yet know what had happened, but he knew enough to be afraid.

Placing herself at Brady's side, Chloe quietly asked, "How is she?"

"I don't know. The nurse wouldn't let me go back with her," Brady answered with clear frustration. The one thing Brady feared was what he could not control. "I suppose I should just be glad I was able to ride in the ambulance with her."

His own anxiety worsening with each word that was spoken, Craig demanded, "Will someone please tell me what is going on?"

"There was an accident," Chloe began, her voice shaking. "Belle was able to pull herself out but . . ."

There was no need for Chloe to finish her sentence. As a gurney sped into the emergency room, Craig required no explanation. "Zach."

Craig brushed past the teenagers and placed himself alongside the gurney as paramedics rolled Zach into the first available trauma room. Craig wanted to ask about his brother's vitals and the estimated time he had been unconscious, but his mouth was incapable of forming words. Craig simply could not tear his gaze away from the injury to the left side of Zach's head. No medical training was necessary to know that the wound was a severe one.

In the waiting room, Philip, Chloe, and Brady stood as still as statues. Each felt like a helpless child that could watch but never be of assistance.

Struggling for clear and logical thought, Brady said, "I need to call my dad."

Chloe laid her hand on Brady's arm. Wanting to lend her unconditional support, she offered, "I'll go with you. I'll see if I can reach anyone at Shawn's house. I'm sure Belle would want him to be here."

As Chloe and Brady's gazes fell upon him, Philip realized there were two more calls that needed to be made. "I'll call Jason and Meems."

~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~

Craig paused before approaching the young adults who sat gathered in the ER waiting room. It appeared that Jason Masters, Mimi Lockhart, and Shawn Brady had arrived while Craig was in Trauma Room 1 with Zach.

Off to the side of the teenagers, John and Marlena stood like protective guardians. Parental worry marred both their faces despite any attempts to present a positive facade. Craig wondered if his own expression mirrored such emotions.

Not sure how to greet the tentative group, Craig loudly cleared his throat. It seemed to work. He promptly had the attention of all eight individuals.

John left his untouched cup of coffee on the counter and swiftly neared Craig. "How's my daughter?"

Craig proffered his best attempt at a smile. Though a failure by usual standards, it was a gesture appreciated by John and Marlena. "Lexie is in with Belle right now. But, I did stop by to check on her before coming out here."

"And?" John gruffly demanded. With his only daughter's life possibly hanging in the balance, John hardly had the patience to bother with politeness.

"And, I think she'll be just fine." As Marlena softly thanked God, Craig continued, "Lexie will probably want to keep her in the hospital for a day or so for observations, but there are no indications that Belle received any life-threatening or permanent injuries in the accident."

Slipping into her professional mode, Marlena asked, "What type of injuries did Belle receive? And, when will we be able to see her?"

"Soon," answered Craig. "Now, I want to warn you all that she's going to look a lot worse than she is. And, with the pain medication she's been given, she probably won't be up to talking with anyone until tomorrow."

Concern still dominated John's face. "Pain medication? I thought her injuries weren't serious."

"I said they weren't life-threatening," corrected Craig. "The medication is to ease the pain in Belle's left knee. There will be some swelling and moderate bruising on that leg. Also, the impact cracked two of her ribs, and she needed stitches on her left arm. A paramedic I spoke with said that they had to remove a large shard of glass from there and smaller slivers of glass scratched her face." Fighting to conceal his own emotions, Craig added, "But, by Monday, your daughter will be back at home. She'll be sore, but she'll surely be there with you."

John felt his heart break upon hearing the emotions Craig vainly tried to camouflage. He was struck by the insensitivity of his own behavior. Though nothing had been said about Zach's condition, John knew from what Craig did not say that he was not as lucky as Belle.

Brushing past the others and foregoing pleasantries, Jason harshly demanded, "What about Zach? When can we see him?"

The urgency in Jason's voice tore Craig's heart, allowing a hint of buried emotion to escape. Shaking his head, Craig softly answered, "I . . . I don't know. He was taken to the OR a little while ago." Craig fought to keep his tears from falling, but he found that was hard to do when witnessing the concern of Zach's friends. "Why don't all of you go home and get something to eat." Reaching out for Chloe's hand, Craig gave it a reassuring squeeze. "I'll call all of you in the morning to let you know if there have been any changes."

"No way," responded Jason as he sat back down. "I'm not going anywhere."

Returning the squeeze Craig had given her, Chloe added, "That goes for me, too."

Craig weakly smiled but feared that Zach's friends did not truly understand the bleakness of the situation. "I know you all care about Zach and Belle, but I really do think it would be best if you went home. I'm afraid . . ."

Interrupting the older man, Jason vowed, "I'm staying. I don't desert my friends."

Mimi stubbornly sat back down beside Jason. "I'm not leaving either."

"Same here," chimed Shawn as he returned to the uncomfortable chair he had earlier occupied.

"You know I'm not leaving," added Philip as he sat down with his friends.

Glancing around the waiting area, Brady concluded, "I guess it's unanimous. We're staying."

~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~ * * ~

Craig wearily entered his dark office; he did not bother with turning on the overhead lights. Sitting down at his desk, Craig flipped on his lamp and a soft light enveloped the area around him.

In truth, Craig knew that he had purposely lingered in the waiting room a little longer than necessary. And, he surely had not taken the stairs because he desired the exercise.

Yet, the delays could not stop the inevitable. Craig had eventually arrived at his office and would now have to make the call he so dreaded.

Picking up the phone, Craig was somewhat surprised by how heavy it felt in his hand. Never before had plastic seemed to weigh so much. With a single punch to the number pad, Craig speed dialed his home.

Nancy answered the phone on the third ring.

"Nancy," Craig greeted, no longer having the strength to feign cheerfulness or even indifference. As he began to lose the fight for composure, Craig inquired, "Is my sister home?"

"Yes," answered Nancy with some hesitance. "Sinclair's here. But, if you are needing to make a family announcement or something, you should know that your brother didn't both to come home for dinner and still hasn't shown up. I'm sure he out with one of . . ."

"He's in surgery," interrupted Craig. "That's why I'm calling." There was a gasp on the other end of the line. Not waiting for his wife's reply, Craig continued, "Zach's hurt pretty bad, and I thought I should be the one to tell Sinclair."

"Of course. I'll run upstairs and get her." Craig heard a click as Nancy laid the phone down on the counter. Time passed painfully slow as he waited to hear his younger sister's voice. He tried to imagine just the right words and tone to use. Unfortunately, Craig was unsure if words existed that could ease the impact of what he had to say.

"Hello?" The greeting came almost as a question. Craig realized that Sinclair's intuitive nature had already made her suspicious of the call. "What's going on?"

"Clair," began Craig with the affectionate name. "I'm at the hospital. I think you need to come down here."

A mental fog began to flood Sinclair's thoughts. "I hate hospitals. You know that." Verbally working through the haze, Sinclair continued, "Why would I need . . . "

Silence stretched across the line. Breaking it with soft words, Craig stated, "I'll be in my office waiting for you."

Too anxious to wait until reaching the hospital, Sinclair demanded, "It's Zach, isn't it? Is he hurt?" No response. "Craig, answer me! Is Zach going to be okay?"

The fear that gripped Sinclair was evident even through a telephone line, and it was Craig's breaking point. "Sweetheart, I don't know. I honestly don't know."

"I'll be there as soon as I can."