Fisher didn’t stop by Sweet Breeze to pack a bag. He had credit cards in his wallet and his phone. He could buy anything he needed on his way home to Michigan.
It’s your mom….
It’s your mom….The words reverberated through his mind, echoing and endless, haunting and hollow. He wasn’t going to answer the call from his father, but he was now extremely glad that he had. Why Denver hadn’t called, Fisher wasn’t sure. Probably because he was in the hospital with Fisher’s mother, and another wave of worry rolled over him. His father hadn’t known much, but he’d gotten enough pieces to put together that Fisher’s mother had been in a car accident and her injuries were serious.
Fisher grabbed his belt, wallet, and phone from the bucket he’d put them in to go through the machine at the airport. Stuf
