Page 129 of Never Alone
She was on her knees beside him before I'd registered her crossing the gravel.
"Quinn—"
Her partner was right behind her, his hand on her shoulder. He was older. Calm.
"Quinn. Step back. You can't work this."
"I've got him?—"
"Quinn. You're too close. Step back."
She looked at him. She looked at Cole. She looked at Sean.
"I've got him," she said again.
"Quinn."
She let out a breath. She nodded. She moved a foot back. Her hand was on Cole's good shoulder.
"Cole. It's Quinn. I'm here."
"Quinn." Cole's voice was quiet, thin.
"I'm here. I've got you."
Sean's hand was on my arm. Light. He pulled me back from Cole's head, gently, to make room for Quinn's partner to work. I let him pull me. I didn't let go of Cole's hand until Sean's hand closed gently over mine and lifted it.
The partner was fast. He had a collar around Cole's neck before I knew what he was doing. He had Cole's shirt cut open, and he was checking his chest, and his hands were going over Cole's ribs in a way I didn't have words for. Quinn was at Cole's head, holding it steady. Her partner called things out—numbers, words I didn't understand. Quinn answered them.
"You're doing good, kid."
Sean's voice was quiet. He was speaking to Quinn.
Quinn didn't look at him. Her hand stayed on Cole's head. Her face was very still.
"You're doing good."
They got Cole on the stretcher. Her partner started loading him into the ambulance.
Quinn turned to Sean.
"Thank you."
Sean nodded. Once.
She turned to me. She held out her hand.
"Come on."
I took it. Her hand was steady. She walked me to the back of the ambulance and climbed up first, and pulled me up after her.
The doors shut.
The hospital room was small.
Two chairs. A monitor. A window with the blinds half-pulled. The light coming through them was the kind of late-afternoon light that didn't match the inside of my head.
They had Cole in the bed. They had given him something—I hadn't caught the name of it; I'd been crying, and the doctor had been talking fast—and he'd gone under within a few minutes of being settled. He'd been mostly under in the ambulance, too. They had told me, in the ER, that the painkillers were strong because the pain was bad. They had told me what was broken. Three ribs on the right side. A dislocated shoulder, reset. A kidney they were watching. A cut on his eyebrow they had closed with seven small black stitches.
