My phone buzzed again. This time, I answered.
“Why did you leave the hospital?” he asked.
“I needed to get a few things, Brendon. And I needed to shower.”
“You’re not in his room, are you, Liv?” he asked.
“Why does that matter?”
There was a long pause.
“But I did find Andrew’s appointment card. Brendon, why did you cancel it?” I pressed.
“I didn’t think he needed it. He was fine. You always overreact. My insurance doesn’t cover it anymore. I would’ve had to pay out of pocket.”
I tightened my grip on the phone. “He trusted you, Brendon, and you canceled it! I would’ve paid in a heartbeat if you’d told me.”
“You turn everything into a crisis,” he shot back defensively.
“Maybe that’s what kept him alive this long,” I replied sharply. “You should’ve talked to me.”
He hung up. My anger simmered, but I kept searching.
There was nothing else. With no more clues, I reached for my phone, thinking maybe I’d missed something from the hospital.
That’s when I saw a notification I hadn’t opened.
1 new video message: Andrew.
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