I hated hospitals. I was in a hospital when Dad first told me Ivy was gone. Just walking through those sliding glass doors dropped a cinder block on my chest. I had to take slow, shallow breaths to keep from hyperventilating. Having Keir at my side helped in more ways than one. Aside from the death grip I kept on his hand, he did all the talking to help us locate Mom in the intensive care unit. She was stable, but they didn’t want to transfer her to recover yet. Dad was with her when we finally found her room. I was relieved he didn’t look as bad as I’d expected. He was tired, and Mom was pale, but otherwise, the two were in decent shape. “Hey, Ro! I’m so glad you’re okay.” Daddy pulled me against his chest, hugging me close to the point of suffocation. My grin nearly split my face in two.
