Chapter 2
Despite everything, now that Thomas is here, she falls into an uneasy nap in the uncomfortable hospital chair.
It's the phone in her pocket that wakes her up.
There's a message from Iris.
I'll let you know if anything changes.Today 00:07 AMYou are not angry?
Mei glances around.
The hospital room is dimly lit and quiet, and her husband is sitting by their son's side, one hand gently laid on Connor's better arm.
Connor's IrisWhy would I be angry?
You didn't expect me
"Who are you texting?" Thomas asks, so quiet it'd inaudible if they weren't surrounded only by the eerie hum of a hospital at night.
Not silent, never silent, but somehow dulled.
Otherworldly.
"Connor's friend," she replies, only a little guilty.
It's not entirely a lie.
Thomas nods and refocuses on Connor.
Mei turns back to the conversation.
Connor's IrisWe've always hoped Connor would feel safe to tell us himself.No one knows
Oh, how that hurts.
How lonely that feels.
Mei wonders how long Connor has carried this secret, but she refuses to go through his phone again.
She considers deleting the call log, too, but decides against bigger deception.
Connor's IrisI won't tell anyone.
It's Connor's to share.And yours.
On the other end, Iris is typing for a long time.
Connor's IrisHow is he?
He's sleeping now.
They want to keep him for observation and we'll have to wake him up regularly for scheduled checkups, but he is good.
As good as he can be, given the situation.He'll be out for the rest of the season, but it shouldn't be a career-ending injury.
She frowns at herself as soon as she hits "Send".
What kind of mother thinks about that at all when her only child is in hospital?
What does his career even matter right now, or in the next hours, or the next days?
But Iris writes back almost instantly.
Connor's IrisHe'll hate thatStorm are done without himThere are other good players on the StormNone as good
Despite everything, Mei smiles.
She may be a Silverwood Storm fan, but she is Connor's fan first.
It's nice to see that Iris shares that sentiment.
Mei doesn't get to dwell on Iris's understanding of hockey, though, because another message lights up her screen.
And her heart breaks for the sender.
Connor's IrisI was so scared
No one knows.
No one knows.
I was so scared.
Please please be ok.
They won't tell me anything.
Mei's eyes burn.
How lonely it must have felt.
How helpless.
Connor's IrisMe too.If you can't visit, maybe we can arrange a phone call.
Connor can't look at screens for a while, but we'd figure it out.
There is a long silence.
Iris has read the message, but there is no typing back.
Mei stands up.
She places a hand on her husband's shoulder.
"You should try to take a nap," she says softly.
"I'll stay up with him."
Thomas frees the chair by the bed for her.
As she sits down, her phone vibrates.
Connor's IrisNoI will visit
Mei sends Iris the hospital information, including the visitation hours.
She offers to pick him up in the lobby.
It hits her that she doesn't even know what he looks like.
Connor wakes up with light trickling into the room.
He's loopy, a little high on the painkillers, but not so much as to not know who he is or where.
Just enough that it doesn't break him to learn he won't be able to play for the rest of the season.
There are rules for visiting hours.
Otherwise, Connor's entire team would probably swarm his room at some point.
Not because they are particularly warm, but in the name of sportsmanship.
Mei is just thinking of how she'll navigate all of that once visitors start coming, especially with Connor's secret on the roster, when...
Connor's IrisI'm in the lobby
It's two minutes before the visiting hours officially start.
I'm coming to pick you up.
She kisses her son's forehead and excuses herself to her family before heading down.
It's early into the visiting hours so the lobby is quieter and emptier than it would be later.
Still, it's not empty.
She doesn't know how she'll recognize Iris.
Until she sees a young man standing alone, shoulders hunched under a brown leather jacket, blond curls trying to escape whatever attempt has been made to tame them.
As if sensing her gaze on him, he turns around.
For a split second, she wants to keep searching.
Because this can't be—
"Mrs.
Vance," Alexei Petrov moves towards her and his tone is softer than she's ever heard him speak, except—
Except when they talked on Connor's phone.
Her knees buckle and she has to grab the wall.
Vance." He is by her side, holding her up, his firm arms keeping her steady.
"I'm fine.
I'm fine." She waves her hand, unable to look at him directly.
"Just lightheaded for a second."
He lets go of her and shoves his hands into the pockets of his jacket.
A clock on the wall ticks away only seconds but it feels like an eternity before her brain resets.
"Alright," she says firmly.
"Let's get you a visitor's pass."
In some ways, it's easier that it's Alexei Petrov.
In some ways.
If anyone asks, if anyone recognizes him, he's here as the captain of the opposing team.
Sportsmanship.
Nothing else.
As if sportsmanship would explain the dark circles under his bloodshot eyes, his ashen skin.
"Brett...
Emerson...
He is very sorry," he tells her as she leads him to the elevator.
"It was a legal hit," she sighs.
"It's all part of the game.
Something like this was bound to happen sooner or later."
It was not the first hockey game she has seen where they had to carry someone out.
It was just the first time with her baby on the stretcher.
"He wanted to come visit today, but I told him not to.
Mrs. Vance...
Connor might not want to see him."
"I don't think Connor holds a grudge." The only person Mei has ever thought her son was holding a grudge against is the man right here.
And apparently she's been wrong in that, too.
The elevator door closes behind them, trapping them in tense silence.
She still can't bring herself to meet his gaze.
"You said you weren't angry," Petrov says in a small voice.
"I didn't recognize your voice." It comes out snappier than she's intended it to.
Do you...
Should I leave?"
She forces herself to look at him.
He looks hesitant.
No, he looks downright scared.
And so young.
So very young.
She forgets how young these boys actually are, compared to how much life they've already lived.
Mei reaches out and puts a hand on his elbow.
"I'm not angry," she says.
"I'm not.
I'm just confused.
A lot has happened in the past couple of hours."
Petrov nods and his Adam's apple bobs as he visibly swallows.
He's a handsome young man.
No wonder he's photographed with a new woman practically every month, he'd probably get them even if he wasn't rich and famous.
The thought is confusing to Mei, at this moment.
She pushes it far back into the darkest corner of her mind.
"Here's what we'll do.
I haven't told my husband—"
"Will he be angry?" Petrov interrupts and he sounds terrified and he looks like a kid and Mei—
She squeezes his arm.
"No.
No, not at all.
You've never met a kinder man.
I just meant what I said.
It's not my secret to share."
Petrov releases a breath.
"So here's what we're going to do.
I'm going to ask my husband to go buy us breakfast, and then I'll let you in to see Connor, and then we'll play it however you want.
However the two of you want."
The truth is, she wants to sit him down for an interrogation.
She has too many questions and too many alarm bells ringing in her head.
This, however, is not the time.
She doesn't have to lie when she asks Thomas to bring her something to eat, something for both of them.
The last time she ate was at sometime before the game yesterday and her stomach growls as soon as she mentions it.