“Rachel,” Diane cut me off quickly, her voice flat and tight. Not like the Diane I knew. My heart beat faster.
“Lily’s fine.” She paused, and I heard her breath shake. “Rachel, you need to come down here to the hospital and see for yourself what your son did. I don’t know how to feel about it. Please just come.”
The air left the living room. I gripped the edge of the counter.
“Done something how? Diane, talk to me,” I begged, feeling panicked.
“Just come. Please. I can’t do this on the phone.”
The line went dead.
I stood there with the phone still pressed to my ear, my mind already racing through every version of what could have gone wrong in a hospital room. I grabbed my car keys without my coat.
The whole drive over, my hands wouldn’t stop shaking against the steering wheel.
