He shook his head too quickly. “No, nothing like that. He was happy, I swear. We talked about baseball — he wanted to practice pitching later. He just tripped, that’s all. It’s not my fault.”
I studied him. When he finally met my eyes, something flickered across his face — fear, guilt, or both.
“You know if there’s anything else, I need to tell the doctors, right?”
Brendon opened his mouth, then shut it, his jaw tightening. “Liv, I swear. He didn’t say anything.”
The nurse stepped in quietly. “I’m sorry, but visiting hours are over. You both need to rest.”
Brendon exhaled, pulling his jacket closer. “I’ll head home. Call me if anything changes.”
When I turned back to Andrew, the room felt unnaturally still, the ticking clock suddenly loud. I sat beside him, stroking his arm, searching for any warmth beneath the tubes and wires.
“I’m here, baby,” I repeated. “I’m not going anywhere.”
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