Abby thought about her father on the way to the hospital, turning over the possibilities in her mind. The police officer on the phone had said it was a car accident, but that didn’t make sense. Her father would have been on his way home from the ranch, a long stretch of desert highway that led right into the city where there was too much traffic to go fast enough for a serious accident.

Unless he’d been drinking…

But no. She didn’t believe that. He’d been sober almost four months. He was doing so well. He seemed happy, at peace for the first time in ages.

Someone else drinking then. This was Vegas. People came here to party.

A lot of the people who lived here came here to party.

There must be thousands of people drunk or hopped up on drugs driving around, causing accidents.

Max reached for her hand over the console. “Everything will be okay.”

She let the sound of his voice seep through her thoughts. He was right: everything would be okay. It had to be. Whatever had happened, they would make it okay. She didn’t like relying on Max for money, but she had some of her own saved. Whatever her dad needed in the way of rehabilitation or physical therapy, they would get him. And if he needed more help than that, maybe Max would let him move into the house for awhile. Max wouldn’t like it, but he would do it for her.

She knew he would.

“Abby?” She looked over at the sound of Max’s voice. “We’re here.”

She looked through the windshield and was surprised to see he was right. They were parked at the side of the hospital, the ER sign bleeding its scarlet reflection onto the pavement.

She opened the car door and they hurried across the parking lot.

He’ll be okay. He’ll be okay. He’ll be okay.

The words were a prayer.

She blinked against the harsh white light when they left the dark behind and stepped into the emergency room.

Max immediately went to the main desk. She saw his lips moving, heard her father’s name as if from a distance, but everything else was fuzzy around the edges.

Fuzzy words and fuzzy people and fuzzy things.

Max took hold of her arm and led her to a quiet corner of the waiting room. She sat in one of the chairs and looked up at him.

“I want to see him,” she said.

“They’re going to get the doctor,” Max said. “I gave them your name. We’ll wait five minutes and I’ll harass them again.”

She settled back into the chair and glanced around the room. She had no idea what time it was — it felt like a lifetime had passed since she and Max had left the Wynn, although it couldn’t have been more than a half hour — but the room was full of people.

A young boy across from her held a white cloth over his index finger, his eyes dark and wide. Near the window, a woman and three men spoke in hushed whispers, their faces creased with concern. Abby’s gaze skimmed across them, continuing to the others in the room, all of them waiting for help or some kind of news that might change their lives forever.

“Abby Sterling?”

The sound of her name made its way through the layers of cotton that seemed to be stuffed inside her head. When she turned toward it, she found a woman in scrubs scanning the room.

Abby stood and headed toward her. “I’m Abby Sterling.”

The woman nodded, her expression grave. “I’m Doctor Patel. Let’s go over here where we’ll have some privacy, shall we?”

Max’s arm slid around her as they followed the doctor into a private room off the hall. This was okay. She was going to get news about her father. He’d probably been in surgery and was recovering at this very moment.

The doctor shut the door behind them and gestured to a pair of chairs against one wall. “Please, have a seat.”

“I just want to know about my father,” Abby said.

The woman nodded. “Your father suffered serious head trauma and internal injuries as a result of the accident,” she said. “He was airlifted as soon as the accident was reported, but I’m afraid we weren’t in time. We did everything we could, but he didn’t make it through surgery.”

Abby blinked. “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

The woman glanced at Max before returning her eyes to Abby. “I’m afraid he died on the operating table. I’m so sorry.”

She was only vaguely aware of Max’s arms tightening around her, the cool cotton of his shirt against her cheek, the whisper of his voice against her hair.

“I’ve got you… I’ve got you, Abby.”

Then there was just a humming in her ears, the room receding as her vision narrowed until there was nothing but darkness.