He walks away. I press my forehead against the wall and close my eyes.
She’s going to be okay.
I say it three times inside my head. Let the words settle. Let them become real.
My phone buzzes in my back pocket. Not my phone. Hers. The one Ace found at the airport. I pull it out. The screen is cracked but functional. Her father is calling.
I stare at it. Watch it ring. And I hesitate. Because I don’t know what to say to him.
I’ve never met this man. Never spoken to him. Everything I know about Richard Jackson comes from Lola. He has the fashion empire, the pressure he put on her, and the conditional love delivered in the shape of obligations and events.
He’s calling because his daughter was supposed to be at his birthday party. And she’s not.
Fuck it. I answer.
“Lola? Where are you, sweetie? The car’s been at the airport for two hours and?—”
“Mr. Jackson. This isn’t Lola.”
Silence.
“Who is this?” His voice shifts instantly. “Why do you have my daughter’s phone?”
“My name is Hunter Sterling. Lola has been in an accident. She’s in the hospital in Arizona.”
The silence that follows is the loudest thing I’ve ever heard.
“What kind of accident?” His voice drops. His authority wavers. Here is the father. The worried one. “Is she—is she okay?”
“She’s okay. She has a concussion, and she needed stitches, but the scans are clear. They’re keeping her in overnight to monitor her. She’s in good hands, I’ve made sure.”
I hear him exhale. “What happened?”
“That’s a conversation I’d rather have in person, Mr. Jackson. But I need you to know that she’s safe. She’s being looked after. She’s got a private room and the best doctors in the state.”
A pause. I can hear him processing. “You said your name is Hunter Sterling. How do you know my daughter?”
I rub my hand over my face. “I’m the man your daughter married, sir.”
The silence stretches so long I check the screen to make sure the call hasn’t dropped.
“Married,” he repeats.
“Yes, sir.”
“When?”
“Recently.”
I can hear him breathing. Can practically hear his brain recalibrating everything he thought he knew about his daughter’s life. “And you’re the one looking after her right now? In hospital?”
“I haven’t left her side since it happened. And I won’t.”
He clears his throat. When he speaks again, the sharp edge is gone. What’s left is the voice of a man who is scared for his child. “Is she really okay, Hunter?” He uses my name.
“Tell me the truth.”
“She’s the strongest person I’ve ever met, Mr. Jackson. She fought like hell today. And she’s going to be fine.”