The voice on the other end hesitated for a moment, then spoke again, sharper now. “This is Dr. Mitchell from St. Joseph’s Hospital. We have a patient here—Cross Thompson. He’s been involved in a car accident. He’s stable, but we need you to come in as soon as possible. There’s something we think you should know.”'
My heart skipped a beat, my pulse racing. “Cross? A car accident?” The words felt like they belonged to someone else. Why was I being called about him?
“Yes,” Dr. Mitchell confirmed. “He’s awake, but he’s asking for you. He won’t settle until you’re here.”
I didn’t know how to react. My mind spun in a million directions, but one thought stood out above the rest: I need to go to him.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” I said, already moving toward the exit.
I grabbed my jacket
