No Forgiveness

The other young woman shot me a nervous look and quickly tossed the phone onto my lap. "Roxanne, just hand it over. She's freaking me out."

Roxanne paused for a beat, then raised her chin with an arrogant look.

"Better be careful with your words around the cops," she muttered, her tone dismissive. "My dad got me that motorcycle as a graduation gift. It cost a ton, so you'd better be ready to cover it!"

I didn't pay any attention to what she said. All I could think about was saving Cyril. Nothing else mattered.

My hands were trembling as I dialed 911. I kept repeating the address to the dispatcher, afraid they couldn't find the place.

…

I dropped onto the bench outside the operating room, gripping my phone tight and dialing Trevor's number repeatedly.

"We're sorry. The number you've dialed is currently unavailable. Please try again later." The automated voice recording hit me like a needle, stabbing my heart again and again.

About half an hour later, I heard a familiar voice calling me from down the hall. "Honey, where's Cyril?"

I jerked my head up to see Trevor, wearing his white coat, rushing toward me with a worried look. He worked as a doctor at this hospital but was only getting here now.

A wave of anger hit me all at once. I snatched my bag and threw it at him. "Trevor Walker! I called you a million times! Why the hell didn't you pick up? Cyril! Cyril… He…"

I was crying so hard. I could barely get any words out and felt like I was going to pass out.

My outburst caught Trevor off guard, and he stepped back, trying to dodge my blows.

"I was in surgery with my phone on silent. What's the deal?" He sounded impatient.

I jumped on him, pounding his chest as I gasped, "Cyril… I can't lose him… It's my fault. I shouldn't have taken him out. We were on the crosswalk, and a motorcycle…"

My finger shook as I pointed to the operating room. "Trevor, you must save Cyril! You're a doctor, too! Go in there and help with the surgery!"

Before I could even finish, I heard a high-pitched voice from behind me. "Trevor!"

I turned around to see Maeve Jenner rushing toward us, practically in a panic.

She grabbed Trevor's arm, her voice shaky. "Trevor, Roxy's hurt. She scraped up her knee pretty badly. She might not be able to wear skirts again…"

"Maeve, take it easy…"

Maeve was the head nurse at the same hospital as Trevor—and the first love he'd never really gotten over.

I gave her a hard look. "Roxy? You mean Roxanne Walker?"

Maeve's eyes were red, and she nodded, leaning into Trevor without realizing it. "Roxy didn't mean it, Whitney. This has to be a mistake. She feels terrible about it."

I pointed at Trevor, my voice slow and clear. "You've got ten seconds to decide. Scratch that, five. Are you going in there to help with Cyril's surgery or not?"

Trevor was about to speak when Maeve moved closer to him. "Whitney, don't worry. Roxy said Cyril's injuries aren't that bad. He'll be okay!"

How the hell could she say Cyril's injuries weren't that bad when his limbs were all twisted up?

Trevor frowned, giving me an annoyed look. "Our colleagues in there are just as qualified. They've got it covered, and Cyril will be fine. Anything else you need to say can wait. I've got to check on Roxy's injury."

He turned and walked off with Maeve beside him.

I stared at his back, feeling like I was looking at someone I didn't even know.