FANG
Beep…beep…beep…beep…beep…beep…
I really wished that annoying beeping would stop. I swear to god, Iggy, I thought. If you don't stop whatever you're doing RIGHT NOW…
It all came back. Mom. Shaia. The baby. Max. An explosion. And Dad…dad was finally dead. I didn't know how I felt about that. Relieved that he couldn't hurt us anymore, angry at what he'd done, sad that I never knew him back when he was good, and kind. Confusion wracked my nerves, but I'd deal with that later. When we'd all had time to heal, maybe we could face it. But that day wasn't today.
"Fang?"
My eyes flew open. Max smiled down at me, her beautiful eyes lighting up as my own met hers. I opened my mouth but she shook her head. "Don't try to talk yet," she said. "Let me get you some water." She leaned over and poured water into a plastic cup, then smoothly cradled my head up so that I could drink from it. I gulped it down gratefully.
When I'd drunk my fill, I tried again. "Max…"
"It's okay."
"What happened?"
"When you were getting out, you ripped your side open on some glass. But the doctors stitched you up, and you should be fine in about two weeks. You can even leave soon," she said cheerfully.
"Mom?"
"Getting better," she said slowly, frowning. "She's expected to make a full recovery."
"And Shaia?"
"Just fine. At least on the outside."
I licked my lips nervously. "And…and the baby?"
"Jordan Michael," Max told me with a smile, "is doing just fine. He's a healthy, strong, six month old baby boy. He'll be alright."
I nodded. "Good." My eyes felt dry and my chest was heavy. I blinked hard, resisting the urge to go back to sleep.
Max ran a gentle hand through my hair. "Rest, now, Fang," she told me. "You get all better, so that you can go home."
I closed my eyes tiredly as the drugs pulled me back down. It was only as I drifted off that I realized the context of her words. She'd said go home. Not come home. And I knew exactly what that meant.