Chapter 4 - The Bitter TruthThe weight of the revelation hung in the air between them like a physical wall of ice.
Monica stared at the photograph in Douglas’s hand, her knees shaking until she had to grip the back of a plastic chair to keep from collapsing. The full horror of the night crashed down on her—the police call, the chaotic rush to the hospital, and now, finding out that the brother who had abandoned her seven years ago was the one who had literally pulled her daughter from the jaws of death.
“Is she... is Nina okay?” Monica choked out, her voice barely a breath.
“She’s alive,” Douglas said gently, stepping closer. “She has a concussion and a broken collarbone, but she’s stable. She’s resting upstairs in Room 412.”
Monica squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her hands to her face as a sob ripped through her chest. “And... and David?”
Douglas couldn't look her in the eye. He looked down at the linoleum floor.
The silence was all the answer Monica needed.
She let out a hollow, broken cry, sliding down the chair until she sat huddled on the floor, weeping uncontrollably for the husband she had loved and the life that had just vanished in a single, violent moment on the highway.
Douglas didn't hesitate this time.
He dropped to his knees beside her, ignoring his expensive suit, and wrapped his arms around his sister’s shaking shoulders, pulling her against his chest just like he used to do when they were children hiding from their father’s shouting downstairs.
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“I’m sorry, Mon,” Douglas whispered, his voice thick with tears. “I’m so, so sorry. I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere.”
Monica wept into his shirt, her fists clutching the fabric of his lapel, mourning her husband while holding onto the only family she had left in the world.
