“All his scan and lab results are really good.” Dr. Whurton looked back up from her clipboard, tucking a stray lock of red hair behind her ear, and smiled at them. “In fact, I’m a bit mystified by how little water we’ve found in his lungs. Maybe his bronchial passages spasmed shut rapidly enough to prevent more penetration, or he didn’t lose consciousness until after his head became supported above water, but his condition at this point seems no worse than, say, a moderate case of pneumonia. More importantly, we’re finding no evidence of organ damage. In this instance, severe hypothermia may actually have helped to prevent heart or brain injury by putting his body into a state of metabolic suspension. Whatever the case, he’s clearly been very lucky, and I’m virtually certain that he’ll recover fully.”

“Thank god,” breathed Colleen’s father.

Colleen felt herself unclench another notch as her mother took her hand, looking as relieved as Thom and Anna did. They’d been bracing themselves all night for far worse news.

“Has he regained consciousness yet?” Anna asked.

“No. But we’ve removed his breathing tube, and transferred him from the ICU to a room in the East Tower, where I expect they’ll have stopped sedating him by now. So he could wake fairly soon.” She shrugged. “Or, he might just continue sleeping through the day. Sleep is an important part of the body’s response to trauma, and,” she offered Colleen a sympathetic smile, “I’m sure you don’t need me to explain how exhausting this kind of experience is.”

Colleen shook her head, unsmiling, as all eyes turned toward her.

After being treated for moderate hypothermia herself, Colleen had been discharged to free up the bed for other patients in even greater need of it. She was going to be fine. Everyone had been assuring her, or themselves, of that since a National Guardsman dangling from a rope had finally plucked her from the roof of her car. She had even managed several hours of surprisingly deep and thankfully dreamless sleep on a row of padded chairs here in the waiting room while they all awaited further news of Dusty’s fate. Now that news had come, all better than she’d dared to hope, but she still felt lightheaded, overwhelmed…

She had seen him go under as he was swept by.

Certain she was seeing him drown—that she had killed him.

Until minutes—hours—lifetimes later, the Guardsmen who had rescued her spotted Dusty too—blocks downstream, tangled in an uprooted tree wedged into the pillared entrance of a building, unconscious but alive, his head held just above the water by its bare branches.

Colleen’s throat closed around another sob, willfully swallowed as she had so many others that night, unwilling to allow herself emotional displays. Not yet. If ever.

It seemed now that Dusty would be okay—for which she was unspeakably grateful.

But she still didn’t know what that would mean, exactly—to her, or him, or them. The universe had just snapped her life out on the wind like a laundered sheet, tossing everything once so neatly and securely arranged upon it up into the air. It was all still sifting down again, to earth, and she had no idea where, or if, any of it would land.

“When can we visit him again?” Thom asked, looking drawn—as if he too remained less than certain of where the doctor’s good news might actually leave them.

The doctor checked her watch. “He’s probably settled by now. I’ll ask someone up there to notify the desk nurse here as soon as it’s all right for you to go up. But when he wakes, he’ll likely be groggy and confused for a while, so it might be easier for him if there were fewer of you there until he’s had a chance to get more oriented and alert.”

“Do you have any idea yet how long his recovery might take?” asked Anna.

“We’ll want to keep him at least a couple more days for further treatment and observation. How much longer than that will depend on how things go. But I’m not expecting trouble at this point.” She glanced again from face to face. “Can I answer any other questions?”

They all looked at one another, and shook their heads.

“Thank you, Doctor,” Anna said. “Please pass our thanks to everyone who’s helped him.”

“Yes,” said Thom, stepping forward to shake her hand. “You’ve saved all our lives.”

“You’re welcome, and I will,” she said. “Bearing good news is the best part of my job. And now, I’d better go. Lots to do around here this morning.” She smiled and turned, heading back down the hallway from which she’d come to find them.

As she vanished, everyone collapsed onto the row of seats behind them, in unison worthy of a Las Vegas chorus line. It might have merited a laugh, on some other morning.

“Well…” Anna sighed.

“Yes indeed,” said Colleen’s mom. They turned to look at one another. “I think Robert and I are the people Dusty will least need to see when he wakes up.” She turned to Colleen. “Perhaps we should just call the car service, and go check into our hotel now?”

Colleen’s father had been on his phone earlier that morning, making all sorts of arrangements. “Long past time.” Colleen leaned in to give her mom a weary hug. “Thank you for coming. I’m…sorry you had to—”

“Shhhh…” her mother said. “I’m elated that you and Dusty are both alive and well. There are no sorrys in it. At all.” She reached in to tilt Colleen’s chin gently up until their eyes met. “Are you hearing me?”

Colleen struggled for an answer. “I’m trying to,” she said at last, unable to lie to her mother again, even a little. 

Her mom gazed at her in silence, then kissed her quickly on the forehead, and let her go, looking back to Thom and Anna. “Please give us a call the minute he’s awake again, or if any of you wants some relief to go deal with other things.”

“Thank you, Shelly,” Anna said. “For everything.” A look passed between them that left Colleen wondering what else she had missed during the night.

Her mom gave Anna a nod, a smile, perhaps…a little forced? “Robert? Shall we?” she asked pleasantly, grabbing her purse and the handle of her small travel bag as she rose from her chair. Colleen’s father pulled the handle up on his small carry-on and stepped to her side.

“I’ll come wait for the car with you,” Colleen said, standing as well, and turning back to Anna. “Call me if anything happens before I’m back?”

“Of course.”

Thom gave her a smile. Did it not quite reach his eyes? Or was that just fatigue she was seeing? His? Hers? Everything had seemed so sure, so clear…before. Had she just imagined all that certainty? Or was she just imagining its absence now?

As Colleen and her parents started walking toward the hospital’s main entrance, her father took out his phone and called the car service. When he’d finished talking with them, he shoved it back into his pocket. “They say fifteen minutes. And he’s calling the hotel to see if he can arrange for early check-in.”

“God, I hope they can,” her mom sighed. “I am so ready to trade lobbies for a shower and a bed.” She glanced at Colleen with something like a wince. “Sorry, dear. I don’t mean—”

“No sorrys in it, remember?” Colleen gave her what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

Her mother nodded. “Fair enough.”

They proceeded in silence for a while after that. From what Colleen had gleaned, her mom had been in the air barely an hour after Anna’s call, on a private jet hastily arranged with their time-share outfit. Her father had left Toronto on their usual plane even before that—his business there still half unfinished. Not that anyone would fail to understand, but…she could not continue dancing around this anymore.

She grabbed her mother’s hand, and brought them all to a halt. “I…Mom, I thought I was just driving through some rain to get a few things from my apartment. I had no idea anything would happen. …I guess I didn’t think anything could happen.”

“I understand that,” her mom replied levelly, as her father watched in silence. “Which…you couldn’t just tell me to start with, because…?”

The answer was no riddle. But Colleen couldn’t think of any way to put it that seemed remotely appropriate to her penitential role here.

“I’m not upset, Colleen,” her mom pressed as Colleen’s silence stretched, “just a little…puzzled?”

“I know,” Colleen said, wishing now that she’d waited to open this can until she had any capacity to think the exchange through more clearly. “I just didn’t want to worry you.”

“Which worked, I guess. For a couple hours.” Her mom’s tone was unexpectedly gentle. “But I’d be worrying a lot less now if I still felt sure you’d tell me when something’s going on.”

“You were so far away, Mom. I was afraid…” Colleen bit the sentence off. What a mistake this had been. One more mistake—among so many.

“Afraid of what?” he mother asked. “Of me?”

“No! Don’t be…”

“Then what? What could make you so afraid to tell me what was really going on, that you’d invent some story about batteries instead?”

“I didn’t want you freaking out, okay? And chartering some flight right into the middle of a dangerous storm!”

A single bark of laughter escaped her father who looked away, clearly struggling to suppress his amusement. “I’m sure you’re too young to know what an appointment in Samarra is, Colleen. But this would be the textbook example.”

“I know what it is,” she told him wearily. One of her professors had used the expression in class, and then had to explain it to them all. “Seriously, Mom; if I’d told you, we’d just have argued about whether it was dangerous, and how worried you were, and then I’d just have had to go to my apartment anyhow—over your objections. I didn’t want to go through…all that.” She looked away and shook her head. “And maybe you’d still be here now, for all the same reasons, just like Dad said. I don’t know.”

“Maybe,” her mom conceded. “Except I wouldn’t be here also wondering what else my daughter might hide from me someday—out of concern.”

“I see that now,” Colleen said quietly. “I saw it when I was on top of my car.” Her mother’s eyes grew pink and shiny, causing Colleen to lower her own. “I won’t make this mistake again, Mom. You won’t have to worry. I’ll never keep anything else from you.”

Her mom’s arms were around her before she’d finished the sentence. Colleen returned the hug, resting her wool-stuffed head on her mom’s soft shoulder.

“And I’ll work harder at not freaking out, okay?” her mom murmured, then leaned away and studied Colleen with concern. “Would you like to come back with us and get some real rest—just for an hour or two? We could send you right back in the car.”

“I’d love that so much, but I need to be here when Dusty wakes up.”

“Of course. Of course, what am I thinking?” Her mom smiled and let go of her.

“And speaking of the car, it should be getting here at any moment.” Her father waved toward the main lobby. “Should we be getting out there?”

Colleen nodded and they all continued walking.

As they stepped outside, Colleen squinted at the light, and realized it wasn’t raining. She looked up in surprise, then pointed. “What is that? That weird patch of color?”

Her parents looked up too.

“That’s called the sky, honey,” said her father. “Has it really been that long?”

“I thought so,” Colleen said. “I just wanted to be sure. Could this storm finally be over?”

Just then, a large black town car pulled into the roundabout and drove up to park in front of them. A striking young man clad in suit and tie stepped out and smiled in a way that made Colleen suddenly aware of her own bedraggled condition. “Would you be Mr. and Mrs. Fischer?” he asked her parents brightly.

“Yes,” said Colleen’s father, stepping out into the drive to shake his hand. “Thank you for coming so quickly.”

“My pleasure, sir.” The driver released her father’s hand and went to open the trunk. “I have good news. The hotel says they’ve got several empty suites to choose from, ready to go as soon as you arrive.”

“Oh, thank you!” Colleen’s mom exclaimed as the young man came to gather her travel bag and the carry-on from her father. “I love this hotel already.”

“Well, to be honest,” the young man said, with a perfectly crafted look of chagrin as he set their bags in the trunk, “none of us has all that much to do today. It’s…a little slow.” He walked up to Colleen, and offered her a dazzling smile. “Any luggage for you, miss?” His charm school performance was so suavely over the top that she almost laughed aloud.

“I’m staying here,” she said, repaying him with an outrageously salacious wink that made him bite both his lips, and shrug apologetically. “But thanks for asking.”

“Just wanted to be certain.” He went back to close the trunk.

Her mother leaned in and whispered, “Be nice. He’s just doing his job. And very well, in my opinion.” Colleen rolled her eyes as the driver returned to open the back door for her mother, while her father climbed in on the street side. Colleen’s mom gave her another quick hug. “We love you, dear. Remember to call us as soon as he’s awake—or if anyone wants some relief.” She turned and folded herself into the car’s spacious, leather-upholstered interior. “Otherwise, we’ll be back this afternoon sometime, but we’ll call before that.”

“Thanks, Mom. I love you both. Rest well.”

“You too, dear, if there’s any way you can. You’re recovering too. Remember that.” Colleen saw the driver give her a discreet once-over, finally seeming to note the condition of her clothes and hair before looking back down at her mom, who gave him an almost embarrassingly appreciative smile and turned to say something to her father as the driver closed her door. He offered Colleen a slight, entirely more serious nod, and walked around to duck back in behind the wheel. A moment later, they were pulling from the roundabout into traffic. Colleen’s mom waved at her through the back window. Colleen waved back, and took one more glance up at the clearing sky before turning to reenter the hospital.

She reached the waiting room to find Thom and Anna gone, then saw them at the registration desk. She went to join them, but they met her halfway there.

“It’s okay to visit him,” said Thom. “He’s in 348.”

As they headed for the elevators, Colleen imagined Dusty waking. Imagined his face when he saw her. Would she see relief there? Happiness? Or anger? What would she say? I’m so happy you’re okay? …I’m so sorry? Maybe she should wait for him to speak. But—

“You okay?” asked Anna.

“Oh…yes. I just…”

“Hey,” Anna said, looking more concerned, “when did you last have anything to eat? Should we go sit down somewhere and have a bite of food before—”

“What if seeing me upsets him?” Colleen blurted.

Only as Thom turned in surprise did Colleen fully realize she’d said it aloud.

“Who?” asked Anna. “Dusty?”

“He almost died. Because of me.” Colleen felt something like relief to have it out at last. They’d all been dragged through hell because of her. That had to be addressed.

“Oh dear.” Anna glanced at Thom, then back at Colleen with a sympathetic smile. “It’s an epidemic. First Dusty, now you.” She shook her head. “Maybe I should get some of my staff on this before it spreads any farther.”

“Are you seriously worried Dusty will be angry to see you?” Thom asked, as if still unsure whether this was just some joke he’d failed to get.

They fell silent as the elevator doors slid open, and stood aside to let people exit before stepping in themselves. Colleen found herself wishing once again that she’d kept her mouth shut. Were they laughing at her? Did they think this was funny? “He pretty much begged me to call him if anything went wrong,” she said as the doors slid shut, leaving them alone again. “But I was so full of girl power, I just drove into a—”

“Don’t,” Anna interrupted softly. “Don’t do that to yourself.”

Thom nodded in agreement. “Colleen, I begged Dusty to wait until I got there before doing anything, but he didn’t. Because all he could think about was reaching you.”

“That’s just what I’m saying,” Colleen insisted. “He’s here because my crummy judgment left him—and all of you—”

“I’ve got nothing if she dies.” Thom cut her off, his voice thick with emotion. “That’s what he said to me, Colleen. When he sees you here, alive and safe, the last thing on this earth he’s going to feel is angry. Seeing you is just going to answer all his deepest prayers. Like having both of you still here has answered all of mine.” He reached for Anna’s hand without taking his reddening eyes off of Colleen, as the elevator halted and its doors slid open.

As they stepped into an empty hallway, Thom turned back to Colleen. “The only thing you failed at was seeing the future, and everybody fails at that. You think I haven’t spent the night thinking all these same kinds of things? Why did I let you two go off alone in that weather to start with? Why didn’t I call earlier to find out what was taking you so long? If I’d left just ten minutes sooner, driven there a little faster, chosen some more direct route or sought out a patrolman and told him what was happening instead of noodling around on backstreets, trying to dodge road blocks and go fix this myself…might all of us have been spared this? We all did the best we could with what we knew at the time—which is all anybody ever gets to do. 20/20 hindsight is always so clear—and so absent until after any need of it is past. Always.” He gave her a crooked smile. “Don’t worry, be happy,” he said with the very worst attempt at a Jamaican accent she had ever heard. And having spent five years on a college campus, Colleen had heard a lot of bad attempts.

“Shall we go see how Dusty’s doing?” Anna asked, offering Colleen another supportive smile, and a pantomimed shove toward the sounds of people and activity.

Colleen drew a shuddering breath, and nodded. Get a grip, she thought as they resumed walking. Whatever he thinks, Dusty shouldn’t have to be taking care of you right now, Colleen.

At the ward’s check-in desk, they were asked to sign in, and given masks to put on. “Don’t want your boy catching a cold from anyone right now,” said the nurse, as she came out to lead them toward Dusty’s room. “Here we are.” She peeked inside. “He’s still sleeping, so speak softly. It’s likely best not to wake him before he comes to on his own.”

They all nodded, then filed in to stand around the foot of his bed.

The others had all gone to see him in the ICU. But Colleen had still been undergoing treatment herself then, confined to a bed on another floor. She hadn’t seen Dusty since they’d hauled him up onto the helicopter like some large, limp fish, back in the Saddle.

He looked…shrunken somehow. So pale, but for the dark skin around his eyes. And so still, hardly seeming to breathe. There were bruises on his neck and arms as well—as if the flood had beaten him with sticks—which, Colleen realized, it likely had. After a moment spent struggling again to push memory and emotion back to some safer distance, Colleen went around to his bedside, dragged a chair there closer to the rail, sat down beside him, and laid her hand very gently atop his. His skin was warm, and soft. She closed her eyes, unable to prevent a tear or two from leaking out. She could still touch him. He was still here to touch.

She drew a slow, deep breath. Then another. Willing everything inside her still.

Thom and Anna both found chairs as well, looking on in silence.

Colleen could hear Dusty’s breathing now, a soft, barely audible symphony of discordant violins, swelling and subsiding. She took a few more slow, deep breaths herself, as if to share the task with him, wanting so badly just to climb into the bed and hold him. All of him.

“I wonder if they’d bring a cot in here?” Anna mused, hardly above a whisper. She smiled at Colleen. “You’re going to have sleep too, at some point. Probably soon.”

“I’m okay for now,” Colleen murmured.

“I know,” Anna said softly. “But you shouldn’t have to choose between leaving him and sleeping. I’m going to go ask them about it.” She got up and left the room.

Thom gazed a while at Dusty. “I knew he wouldn’t wait,” he told her. “He’s always been that way. So full of self-doubt, until someone needs him, and then…so frighteningly sure of himself.” Thom shook his head, his own eyes gleaming now, at the edge of spilling over. “You’ll be the death of me yet, boy.”

An unaccountable chill ran down Colleen’s spine. Not until this moment had she ever really understood—even guessed—how deeply this man’s care for Dusty ran. Yes, he was Dusty’s father, legally. And Dusty did admire him intensely. But Dusty had been in his early twenties when Thom and Anna had adopted him—another fact that had always seemed a little strange to Colleen, though the reasons for it had been amply explained to her, more than once. It wasn’t like they’d really raised him. Thom had only known Dusty for seven years, and their rapport had always seemed…well, warmly cordial, but also kind of business-like—to Colleen at least. But what she heard in Thom’s voice now was a father’s love. A depth of care and intimacy that she had neither seen nor expected there before.

It had hardly occurred to her until now to wonder what all this had been like for Thom or Anna. They’d just seemed to motor through this like they did so many other things, wise and calm and strong. Such remarkable people. When had she learned to take that so for granted? She’d been so focused on Dusty, and her own parents—but Thom had been there too—right there—to see Dusty fall, and vanish in the flood. She’d never even asked him yet what he had done then—before the helicopter came. Nor had he said anything about it—to anyone—in her presence anyway. Thom was just there. Always there, calmly, agreeably, waiting to be of use. Anna walked back into the room, smiling at Colleen, her mouth opening to say something, but then she froze, looking past her. “Are his eyes open?” she asked.

Colleen twisted in her chair to find Dusty staring back at her through heavy lids—the way an infant stares, unsure of, or amazed by, what it sees.

“Dusty?” Colleen said.

For a moment, he just kept staring, his mouth slack and slightly open. Then, in a slurred, laryngitic whisper, he said, “Are you dead too?”

Her eyes welled right up again. “You’re in a hospital, Dusty. We’re all here.” She waved toward Anna and Thom, who’d risen to come closer. “You’re fine.”

He kept staring at her through half-lidded eyes. “Dead’s okay,” he croaked, “if you’re here too.”

The wall she had been shoring up all day collapsed, completely and all at once. She lunged closer, threw her arms across him, dropped her face onto his chest, and began to sob. Once begun, she couldn’t stop it. What must Dusty think? she asked herself miserably. But no one spoke at all until the bulk of what she’d held inside all night had found release at last.

Only then did Dusty look up over Colleen’s head at Thom and Anna and speak again, his gravelly voice still slurred and hard to hear. “Hey, guys. …Just like old times, huh, Thom?”

Thom grunted something that might have been laughter, or a choked-off sob of his own as Colleen raised her head at last, wiping at her eyes. “Yeah, well…” Thom said softly, “We’ve really got to stop meeting like this.”

“It’s good to have you back,” Anna said. “How you feeling?”

Dusty took another moment to consider this. “Not great. Okay though.” His gaze wandered around the room to settle, once again, on Colleen’s face. “How’d we get here?”

“In a helicopter,” she said, still pushing back tears. “Do you remember…anything?”

His eyes stayed trained on hers, but their focus softened. “Falling. …I remember… I saw you go by. I felt so sorry.” He sounded bewildered. “Didn’t want…to do that to you, Collie.”

Colleen felt her face twist with the effort not to cry again.

“I…then…” His gaze slid toward Thom and Anna. “Wow …So strange.” He fell silent, and his eyes half closed again.

“What, Dusty?” Anna asked gently. “What’s so strange?”

“When I died…this dream,” he whispered, sounding half asleep again. “…There was…an angel…” His eyes closed, and Colleen thought he had gone back to sleep until he whispered, “Big…black eyes…like a fish…swam…just like…” His eyes reopened, sliding toward Colleen. “She kissed me, Collie…but I don’t want a fish. …I want…all I want is you.” He closed his eyes again, clearly asleep. She wasn’t sure now that he’d ever even really been awake.

“Thom?” Anna asked.

Colleen turned to see Thom lowering himself back into a chair, looking paler than before.

“Are you okay, love?” Anna asked. “Should I get a nurse?”

He shook his head. “I’m just…having an adrenaline crash, I think.” He gave her a wan smile. “Been a long night—for everybody. Maybe you were right. Give me a minute, and then we should all go get some breakfast.” He smiled weakly at Colleen. “Not all of us are young enough to party all night and just keep going, like you crazy kids.”