Chapter 14. At the hospital

It was mid-afternoon when Cara arrived at the hospital. Standing in front of Jim’s room, she looked through a small window in the door. Inside she could see Jim lying motionless on a bed, a web of wires and tubes attached to his body. Behind him, a wall of monitors blinked, recording life or what little was left of it.

As she reached to open the door, she struggled to suppress a rush of memories that dragged her back to her father’s last hours in this same ward. For a moment, her defenses were almost breached as the grief and pain threatened to overcome her. She considered running, but with a resolve that had carried her through many moments of despair, she opened the door and entered slowly.

Inside, a low hum and a periodic beep signaled a life in the balance. A woman sat at Jim’s side, his hands in hers. Behind her stood a man rubbing tears from his eyes. He glanced over on hearing the door open but did not seem to notice Cara enter. His gaze returned to his son, his thoughts to those agonized places where anticipated grief drags a terrified mind.

The woman rose. Her eyes were bloodshot.

"Cara?"

"Yes," Cara whispered.

"I’m Clare, Jim’s mother."

Cara extended her hand. Clare stepped forward and embraced her. In a breath, Cara felt her world crumble. She started crying. Clare ushered her out of the room. They walked and found seats in a deserted waiting room.

"How is he?" Cara asked.

Clare thought for a moment and then spoke slowly, carefully thinking through the answer. "He’s doing okay." She forced a smile. "The doctors are doing everything they can."

"What happened?"

"He was attacked at home. He was trying to escape and fell from his bedroom window. It was John Kilroy—you know, the school headmaster."

"Oh, my god." Cara was speechless. Dunluce, the boxes, and now this. It was all too coincidental to be a coincidence.

"He's upstairs getting treated for his injuries," Clare continued. "We don't know why he did it. He was such a nice man. I know his wife well. It makes no sense."

They sat in silence for a time; both lost in thought. There was a knock on the door, and Officer Bunt stepped into the room.

"Mrs. O’Neil, sorry to interrupt, but Detective Clarke is here and would like to speak with you."

"Certainly." Clare motioned to Cara. "This is Jim's friend, Cara. The young lady I mentioned."

Bunt introduced himself. Cara rose and shook his hand. It was cold and damp. She pulled back suddenly, an irrational fear gripping her.

"Would it be possible for you to stay?" Bunt asked. "Detective Clarke would like to speak to you."

Cara shook her head. "I don't think . . ."

"This is just procedure. It won't take long."

Bunt left with Clare. Cara sat back down and waited. The sounds of the hospital, raised voices and hurried footsteps, filtered through the closed door. To Cara, they were the sounds of futility. She got up and left.