Alex watched his parents’ shoulders slump, and they all shuffled off, meek and scared and dejected. He wondered for a moment how he could have known about the nurse. The nature of the insight felt new to him, and not entirely welcome.

There was something sadly eternal about the small rectangular waiting room, with its smell of antiseptic and rows of upholstered chairs and television flickering in the corner. The television was playing too quietly to be heard and Alex wondered what was the point, and then he realized: it was to remind people that this room wasn't the whole world, that whatever horror had summoned them here, there was still life outside. He was struck by the thought, by the newfound adultness of it, as he had been by his insight into the nurse, and for some reason the fact that he could suddenly understand such a thing frightened him.

They found three adjacent chairs and sat. Alex looked around. A dozen or so people were in there already. None paid Alex and his family the slightest attention. A Latina cradled a little girl's head in her lap, cooing softly. A little boy Alex supposed was the woman's son slumped against her shoulder, asleep. An old man in a flannel shirt moaned to himself, clutching a bloody rag against his arm. They all looked like they'd been there forever, and Alex wondered briefly if his family now looked the same.

He wanted to take his mother's hand but saw that she and his father weren't touching, so maybe that meant he wasn't supposed to. “I have to… I need to go to the bathroom,” Alex said. His mother offered only a tiny nod in response, and Alex felt guilty that he had to do something for his own comfort.

When he returned, his father had gotten up and was pacing. His mother sat so still she might have been carved from marble. Certainly her face was white enough.

Alex sat and stared at the swinging doors he assumed led deeper into the hospital. He tried not to think about Katie, about how they were operating on her. They must have given her anesthesia, right? At least she wasn't in pain.

Every twenty minutes or so his father would go to a pay phone in the corridor and call home. After the fourth such foray, he came back and said, “I got Ben. He's on the way.”

His mother looked up. “Where was he?”

His father shook his head. “I don't know. I didn't want to get into a discussion. I just wanted to get him over here.”

Less than ten minutes later, Ben burst into the waiting room, and Alex felt a wave of reassurance at the sight of his tough, broad-shouldered big brother. At least they were all together now. It could be hard to talk to Ben, and Alex knew Ben didn't exactly like him, but his brother had always protected him. Alex felt he would protect him now, too, protect all of them.

“What happened?” Ben said. “How's Katie?”

“Where were you?” his mom said, coming to her feet and closing on him. “You were supposed to drive her!”

“What?” Ben said.

His father stepped in and grabbed Ben by the arm. “I told you, you were supposed to drive her home from the party.”

“You did not,” Ben said, shaking his head. “You said I should have Katie home by midnight.”

“What did you think I meant?” his father said, his voice rising. “You were supposed to drive her!”

Alex looked around from his seat. The previously stupefied denizens of the waiting room had stirred to partial awareness and were watching this drama unfold.

“I thought… you know, she was supposed to be home at a certain time,” Ben said. “She's younger. Wally said he would drive her, so I thought-”

The room was silent.

Ben asked, “Where's Wally?”

His father said, “Wally was driving. He's dead.”

Alex felt a rush of fear at those two last words, at their stark finality. He understood that whoever had called must have told his parents. But… how could Wally be dead? Alex had just seen him, what, three days ago?

Ben looked like he'd been hit in the stomach. “Katie… Katie said it was okay.”

His father's voice got louder. “I think I made it perfectly clear that you were supposed to drive your sister home, Ben! You!”

Ben shook his arm loose and stepped back. He looked at his father, then his mother. “What are you, blaming me for this? This is my fault?”

“She wasn't supposed to be in Wally's car!” his mom said, and burst into tears.

They all stood that way for a long, frozen moment. Ben turned and walked out.

“Ben!” his father called, but Ben didn't even glance back. “Ben!”

His father started to go after him. Alex heard the swinging doors open and looked up to see a guy in green surgical scrubs coming through. The guy said, “Katie Treven's family?”

Alex's parents rushed over to him. Ben turned and came back in the room. Alex, terrified, forced himself to stand.

“We're Katie's parents,” Alex's father said, his voice low, his jaw hardly moving. “How is she?”

“She's in post-op,” the guy in scrubs said, and Alex's mom's hands flew to her mouth, stifling a sob. She sagged against his dad. His dad was breathing in and out like a locomotive. Tears were suddenly running down his face.

“I'm Dr. Rosen,” the guy in scrubs said. “Let's go somewhere we can talk.”

Dr. Rosen led them to a small room off the waiting room. There were chairs, but no one sat.

“Your daughter sustained severe trauma to the head,” Dr. Rosen said. “There was bleeding, and we had to operate to relieve the pressure.”

Alex's mom had a fist pressed so tightly to her mouth her arm was shaking.

“Is she…” Alex's dad asked, but he couldn't finish.

“We've done everything we could,” Dr. Rosen said. “But I have to caution you, at this point I'm not optimistic about Katie's chances. You have to prepare yourself for the worst.”

A sound escaped from Alex's mom's throat, high-pitched, something like a hiccup. She twisted her fist savagely against her lips.

Alex felt the tears well up again and this time he couldn't stop them. He glanced at Ben. His brother's mouth was a thin pale line. Of the four of them, he was the only one not crying.

“Can we see her?” his dad whispered.

Dr. Rosen nodded. “Of course. She isn't conscious, though. She's bandaged and there's a lot of bruising. She's also intubated-a tube in her mouth.”

Alex understood that Dr. Rosen was telling them all this to prepare them. He was glad for the warning. He wanted to be strong. Maybe he couldn't be as strong as Ben, but he wanted to try and he knew he needed every advantage.

Dr. Rosen led them down a corridor and into a private room. Ben was behind their parents. Alex, frightened and unsure of himself, brought up the rear.

For a second, Alex thought there had been a mistake, Dr. Rosen had taken them to the wrong room. The person in the hospital bed was unrecognizable-the head wrapped with bandages, the mouth agape around tape and a plastic tube, the eyelids shot purple and swollen shut.

And then, through the bandages and bruises and battered flesh, he recognized Katie. Katie. The tears didn't just well this time, they spilled from his eyes in a hot rush.

His mother dropped to her knees next to the bed and took Katie's hand. “Oh baby,” she whispered. “My sweet baby. My baby.”

His father moved around to the far side of the bed and took Katie's other hand. He didn't speak. Katie didn't stir.

Alex felt himself sweating. Why did they keep the room so hot? And his breath was coming very fast. He couldn't seem to slow it down.

Ben turned and looked at him. He put an arm around Alex's shoulders and gently led him out of the room.

They stood in the hallway, not speaking. Alex realized he was hyperventilating and he couldn't stop crying.

Ben eyes were still dry. He tousled Alex's hair. “You going to be okay?”

Alex nodded, but the compassion in his brother's gesture and voice made him cry harder. After a couple of minutes he had it mostly under control. The trick was to not think of how Katie had looked in that bed. How diminished and hurt and vulnerable. How… vacant.