Chapter 122

Chapter 0222

And so I just curl up against mom at the head of the bed, listening to my dad and my brother fight

about whether or not I should be at the school, and what the hell Rafe was thinking taking me there,

and how I’ve survived so far. I can hear Rafe supplying information that Jackson told when they

were away at the shower, apparently, about the identity of the cadet who shot me with a crossbow

and whether or not he has a further vendetta against me, but I quickly find myself slipping into sleep

as I lean against mom.

“Come on, baby,” I hear mom murmur from my half daze. I blink into consciousness, realizing that

dad and Rafe are still going at it, and then I look up at mom next to me. “Let’s get you cleaned up,”

she says, unhooking me from the IV and tugging me away.

I nod, following her to the second door in the room, yawning as we pass through it and a few more

doors before we enter a pretty utilitarian private bathing chamber. She helps me strip down and

then I shower as mom fills me in, quietly and calmingly, on the gossip from home. Markie is fine he

doesn’t like school, loves sports, wants a pet squirrel more than anything in the world. Juniper hates

everything, apparently, and won’t wear anything but black dyed her hair black, too, in a fit of

rebellion.

I smirk, thinking fondly of my taciturn little sister, missing her with a sudden intensity that surprises

me. But I dry off with a scratchy towel and then pull on the supplied one–size–fits- all–Alpha

pajamas – which, obviously, swim on me. But mom laughs and helps me pull the drawstring of the

pants tight before leading me out into the hospital room again and back to the bed.

Dad and Rafe, I’m interested to see, have fallen silent and aren’t looking at each other.

“So,” mom says, overly cheerful. “Did we men come to any decisions about Ariel’s fate in the world

without consulting her?”

Rafe balks a little bit, staring at my mom, because he has been fighting for me for the past few

hours. She just winks at him, because the critique was mostly for my dad.

“Enough, Ella,” dad murmurs, massaging his temple with his left hand. “We decided to pick it up

again tomorrow, after we’ve all slept on it. We’re not getting anything done here anyway.”

“Wow, you’re kidding me, I thought you were making such progress,” mom murmurs with over–

cheerful sarcasm as she tucks me into bed. Dad just glares at her half–heartedly before turning to

me, leaning down to give me a kiss on the cheek and then run his hand over my

hair.

“I love you, Ariel,” he says, and I look up at him, hoping he can see in my face all the love I

so much that it aches. His face falls a little then, and I smile, have for him in my heart because I

think he sees it. “I just want what’s best for you.”

–

“I know, pops,” I murmur, reaching for him, wanting a hug. Dad obliges me, wrapping me up tight for

a long, long moment. And then he lets me lay back down in the bed, standing up. As soon as my

head hits the pillow, my eyes start to drift shut.

“We’ll see you for breakfast, baby,” mom whispers, also leaning down to give me a kiss. ” You just

sleep tight for now.”

I murmur my assent, and then I’m asleep, the last thing I hear three sets of footsteps leaving the

room, my brother’s whispered goodnight as he switches off the light.