“I’m glad you’re okay,” Uncle Dean said.
I waited for one of them to ask why I was skipping school, but neither of them did, so I kept my mouth shut about that, too. Right now, I really just wanted some aspirin and to lay down in a quiet, dark room—preferably with Trent, though I doubted Aunt Beth and Uncle Dean would let me spend the weekend at Whitney’s now.
The same nurse from earlier bustled into the room carrying a stack of papers. “Ready to go home?” she said with a cheery tone.
“Yes,” I said.
The nurse went through all the at-home care instructions and when to follow-up with a doctor. Then she officially discharged me and walked out of the room as quickly as she’d walked in.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood, which caused blood to rush to my head. I swayed on my feet, and Trent steadied me. Spots blinked in front of my eyes. I winced.
“Ow.” I reached up to massage my temples, and that caused pain to shoot across my ribcage. Isach couldn’t get me that potion fast enough.
“Dean, go bring the car around,” Aunt Beth said, shooing him from the room.
How was I supposed to walk out to the car? Didn’t they normally escort patients down in a wheelchair? Not that I wanted to be wheeled around, but between the broken ribs and the violent headache, there was no way I was walking out of here on my own.
“What’s wrong?” Trent asked.
“My head.” I’d never had migraines before, but I imagined this must be how they felt. The bright lights only made it worse.
“Want me to carry you?” he asked.
I shook my head. That would cause too much pain in my ribs. Tears spilled down my cheeks.
Whitney breezed out of the room and returned seconds later pushing a wheelchair. “Sit,” she ordered. Her entire tone and demeanor today was scary, and I wasn’t about to argue with her.
Trent helped me ease into the wheelchair. “Better?” he asked.
“Yeah. Thanks,” I said.
“Okay, let’s get you home and into bed,” Aunt Beth said to me, then turned to Abby. “And I expect you to follow us.”
“No,” I said, my voice weak. “I’m not going home. I’m going to Whitney’s.”
Aunt Beth’s eyes widened like she couldn’t believe I’d disagreed with her, probably because I rarely ever did, but I wasn’t budging this time.
“Excuse me?” she said, planting a hand on her hip.
“We need to finish planning the wedding.” It was a weak excuse, but it was the only one I had.
“Don’t worry, Beth,” Whitney said sweetly. “I will take super good care of her. And I promise we’ll just sit around and make decisions. We won’t leave the house.”
“If Chloe’s going, so am I.” Abby crossed her arms defiantly. “I am the maid-of-honor. I need to be there.”
“Please, Aunt Beth?” I begged as fresh tears streamed down my face.
She dropped her hand from her hip and sighed. “Fine, but I want a phone call as soon as you get there, and I want hourly updates. Got it?”
“I will personally call you every hour.” Whitney smiled.
I had no idea how she did it, but she’d won Aunt Beth’s trust immediately, and she consistently used that to our advantage. I was going to have to do something special for her to show my gratitude.
Aunt Beth nodded, and my body slumped with relief. Trent wheeled me downstairs where Uncle Dean was waiting near the front entrance. Aunt Beth hurried around to the driver’s side to tell him what was going on, and he frowned, clearly displeased.
“Can we please just go?” I muttered.
“Stay with her,” Trent said to Whitney. “I’ll go get my truck.”
Aunt Beth crouched in front of me, her hands resting gently on my knees. “We love you.” She rose, kissed the top of my head, then turned her attention to Abby.
I tuned them out and glanced at Isach. His head was down, hands shoved into his pockets, guilt pouring from him.
“Isach,” I said.
He lifted his head, then cautiously approached, his gaze darting toward Whitney as if he didn’t trust her not to attack, and I couldn’t blame him. She’d been harsh.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Look, I know things are crazy right now, but I don’t blame you, okay?” I kept my voice low so Aunt Beth wouldn’t hear what I said. “I know Whitney’s concerned, but I don’t think anything she said is true. I know you wouldn’t hurt us like that.”
Or rather, I knew he wouldn’t hurt Abby in that way, and that meant he couldn’t really harm me or Trent, either, because that would really hurt Abby.
“Thank you,” he said, sincerity ringing in his tone.
“And Whitney?” I couldn’t physical twist around to look at her, but she stepped to my side. “Go easy on him, okay? If I or Trent were judged based on the actions of our fathers, we wouldn’t be very good people, either.”
Isach gave me a grateful smile.
“You’re too good sometimes, Chloe.” Whitney sighed. “But fine. I’ll trust him until he gives me a reason not to.”
That was better than nothing. There was still a lot we needed to figure out, and we would. But tonight, I just wanted to sleep.
Trent pulled up in his truck, hopped out, and opened the passenger door for me. Aunt Beth gave me another kiss and reminded me and Abby—again—to check in regularly. Then she got into Uncle Dean’s car, and they left. I couldn’t believe they actually agreed to let us stay with Whitney. I’d expected a bigger fight.
Once I was securely buckled in Trent’s truck—which was extremely painful across my ribs—we headed to his house, and he drove slower than I’d ever seen him drive.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN:
Magic Cure
WHEN I WALKED INTO TRENT’S HOUSE, I was assaulted with the familiar, mouthwatering smell of cinnamon, vanilla, powdered sugar, and maple syrup. I inhaled deeply, and my stomach rumbled. The last thing I’d eaten was earlier that morning—I’d skipped lunch because I was too freaked out
