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The Overnight Guest(47)

Author:Heather Gudenkauf

“Will my grandma be there?” Josie locked on to Lowell’s bright brown eyes for reassurance. “Do you think they found Ethan and Becky?”

“Shhh,” he soothed. “Don’t worry about those things right now. Your grandma is going to meet us at the hospital. I promise, Josie. You’re safe now.”

Josie floated away on his words and thought of the night sky filled with white gold orbs, thought of her and Becky leaping toward them trying to snatch them up.

Before she knew it they arrived at the hospital. The back doors of the ambulance opened and the gurney that she was lying upon was lifted. Above her, Josie briefly saw a shard of hard blue sky and heard Lowell say, “GSW to the left arm. Cuts and contusions to her feet and arms. Blood pressure and heart rate are below normal. Watch for possible shock.”

“This the girl from the farm out near Burden?” a woman wearing yellow scrubs asked.

“Yes,” Lowell said, squeezing Josie’s hand. “Her grandmother should be here any minute.”

“Any other incoming from the scene?” the woman asked.

The air was cold and a sharp antiseptic smell bit at Josie’s nose as they moved down the hallway.

Josie looked hopefully to Lowell; a small spark of hope fluttered in her chest.

“Not sure,” he said shortly.

“I’m Dr. Lopez,” the woman said, leaning over Josie. “I’m going to take care of you. Can you tell me what happened?”

“I got shot,” Josie said. Again, she looked to Lowell. “Can you stay with me?” she asked him as she was wheeled into an examining room.

“’Fraid not, Josie,” he said apologetically. “I have to get back to work, but I’ll peek back in later to see how you’re doing. Sound good?” Josie nodded and Lowell disappeared from the room.

The doctor and nurses took over then. “Looks like you’ve got some buckshot embedded in there. You’re a lucky girl, though,” Dr. Lopez said as she probed the wound gently with gloved fingers.

Josie didn’t feel lucky.

“It just grazed you, thankfully. There doesn’t appear to be any tendon or bone damage, but we’ll take some X-rays and get you cleaned up,” Dr. Lopez said.

Josie was wheeled to X-ray and then taken back to an examination room. Dr. Lopez bathed the wound in saline, all the while telling Josie precisely what she was doing. “We’ll numb up your arm really well, and then I’ll debride the wound, give you a few stitches, and you’ll be as good as new.” When Josie looked at her nervously, she smiled. “That just means I’ll remove the remaining buckshot from your arm. Don’t worry, you won’t feel a thing.”

She was right, except for the initial prick from the local anesthetic, Josie didn’t feel anything, but still, she kept her head turned and eyes screwed shut so she wouldn’t have to see what was happening. Dr. Lopez then examined the cuts on Josie’s feet and the scratches across her arms. “These are just superficial. Nothing to worry about, but they’ll be sore for a while. Keep them clean and we’ll give you some antibacterial cream to put on them.”

Josie dozed and when she opened her eyes, she was in a different room and her grandmother was sitting in a chair in the corner. Her long gray hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She wore what she called her around-the-house jeans and a short-sleeved collared shirt and was nervously kneading the strap of her big black leather purse that was perched on her lap.

“Grandma,” Josie whispered.

“Josie,” Caroline Ellis said, leaping to her feet. “How are you?” Her voice trembled.

Josie scanned her body. She felt no real discomfort. Her tongue was thick and heavy in her mouth and she wanted a drink of water. She tried to sit up but a jolt of pain went through her left arm.

“Mom, Dad?” Josie whimpered. Her grandmother stood over her, raw grief etched across her face.

“I’m sorry, honey,” Caroline said. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Josie moaned and tried to turn over on her side and curl up into a ball but moving hurt too much. Instead, she lay on her back and cried. Hot tears rolled down her cheeks and mucous filled her nose and throat. “Why?” she asked thickly.

“I don’t know, honey. The police want to talk to you about what you remember. I know it’s scary,” Caroline added quickly, seeing the fear on Josie’s face. “But they have some questions. Do you think you can do that?”

“But I already talked to someone,” Josie protested.

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