She hated the smell of disinfectant. The sound of muted announcements. The painful brightness of the lights. She’d spent so much time in hospitals when her aunt was dying that at one point she felt like she’d never be able to leave, that she’d spend eternity in those brightly lit corridors, tortured by the moans of the dying. All that came back to her now as she followed Michael into the emergency room. He’d nearly crashed them into a tree on his way there, skidding on the icy roads. He’d driven with his jaw clenched and his hands tight on the wheel. Jessy could only imagine what was going through his mind. As scared as she was for the kids, his fear must have been a million times worse. They half-ran into the waiting room, where they found Ann sitting with Ben and Marie. All three looked like they’d been put through the wringer, their eyes red and cheeks still wet with tears. When Ann saw Michael, she shot to her feet and threw herself against him.
