Shane rolled her father onto his side and settled him as comfortably as possible, then sat back and said, “Better call an ambulance. You’ll probably want him to go to the hospital, right? Mrs. Danvers?”

She blinked and slowly nodded, then got up and used the desk phone to call 911. While she did, Claire stared down at her dad’s still, pale face. He looked awful. Now that the adrenaline shock was fading, tears were threatening to drown her, and she didn’t want to cry, couldn’t cry, not now. Her mom needed her to be strong.

Her dad opened his eyes. His pupils looked huge, but then they shrank back to normal size. Having his eyes open didn’t actually make her feel that much better, because he looked at them like they were strangers.

Even Claire.

When he tried to sit up, Shane put a big hand on his shoulder and said, “Sir, you’d better stay down until the ambulance gets here, okay? Just rest. Do you remember what happened?”

Her dad blinked, very slowly, and focused on Shane’s face. “Do I know you?” he asked. He sounded . . . confused. Claire’s throat went tight and hot, and she choked back tears again.

“Yes, sir, I’m Shane, Claire’s boyfriend. We had a talk last week about your daughter.”

Claire looked at Shane then, because that was the first she’d heard of any talk. Not that it was a bad thing, but she couldn’t believe he’d gone off and talked to her dad without her. What a . . . medieval thing to do.

“Oh,” Dad said, and turned his head to look at Claire. “You’re too young to be dating, Claire. You should at least wait a couple of years.”

That was . . . random. And odd. She blinked and said, “Okay, Dad, don’t—We’ll talk about it later, all right?”

The response time of ambulances in Morganville was fast—after all, it wasn’t that big a town—so Claire wasn’t surprised to hear sirens already in the distance. “You’re going to be okay, Daddy,” she said, and took his hand in hers. “You’re going to be fine.”

He tried to smile. “I have to be, don’t I? I have to see you go to college.”

“But—” But I’m in college. No, she must have misunderstood him. He probably meant he wanted to see her graduate from college.

Because otherwise, what sense did that make? Anyway, it was probably normal for him to be a little confused. He’d passed out, and it was almost certainly his heart; she knew the doctors had been treating him for a while. Maybe this time they could fix it.

“I love you, baby,” he said. “I love you and your mom very much; you know that, right?”

He put his hand on her cheek, and finally the tears just spilled over in a hot mess down her face. She put her fingers around his. “I know,” she whispered. “Don’t leave, Daddy.”

The ambulance sirens were loud now, right in front of the house, and Claire’s mom dropped down next to Shane again, touched his shoulder, and said, “Would you go let them in, honey?”

He was gone in seconds, pounding down the stairs, racing to the front door. It didn’t seem long at all before Claire heard the rattle of metal and heavy footsteps, and then the room was crowded with two big paramedics, one male, one female, who moved her and her mom out of the way so they could lay out all their kits. Claire backed up to the wall and, now that she had nothing to do, started to shake like she might come apart. Her mom put her arm around her, and they waited. Shane stayed out in the hall, looking in. When Claire wiped her eyes and glanced his direction, he mouthed, Hang in there. She smiled weakly.

The paramedics talked to her dad, then talked to each other, and finally the woman got up and came over to Claire and her mom. “Okay, it looks like he’s stable right now, but we need to get him into the hospital. I’ll need somebody to come along to fill out the paperwork.”

“I’ll . . . I’ll get my purse,” Claire’s mom murmured. The male paramedic had her dad sitting up now, and was taking his blood pressure. Shane moved out of the way as Mom headed out to get her things, and then came in to stand with Claire. He took her hand and held it tight.

“See, he’s okay,” Shane said. “Maybe he just passed out. Lucky he didn’t hit his head.”

“Lucky,” Claire whispered. She didn’t feel lucky. Not at all. Right now, she felt . . . cursed.

As they helped her dad to the waiting gurney, he looked over, and she was relieved when he said, “Shane. Thanks for being here with my girls.”

“No problem,” Shane said. “Feel better, sir.”

“Keep your hands off my daughter.”

The paramedics grinned, and the woman said, “I think he’s feeling better. You can meet us at the hospital if you’d like. Your mother may need you.”

“I’ll go,” Claire said. “Shane—”

“I’m not leaving you. You’re going to need someone to fetch hamburgers, right? I’m your man.”

Yes, he was, she thought. Definitely her man.

The hospital wasn’t Claire’s favorite place, not ever, but now that it was her dad being wheeled into tests, it definitely was worse than usual. At least when she’d been the patient she didn’t have to just . . . sit and wait.

She felt useless. Her mom had filled out all the sheets and sheets of paper, answered questions, made phone calls, done everything useful she could, but now she just sat, looking empty-eyed at a television playing in the corner of the waiting room. Claire kept bringing her magazines, and her mother glanced at them, thanked her, and put them aside.

It was awful.

Michael and Eve showed up a couple of hours later, bearing pizza, which by then was really welcome. Father Joe from the local Catholic church stopped in, too, and spoke to Claire’s mother in private. They prayed, too. Claire wasn’t in the habit, really, but she got up and joined them. Silently, her friends followed her, and it felt better having them with her. At the end, Michael crossed himself and hugged her, and Eve did, too. Shane just stayed with her, quiet and there.

Oliver showed up an hour later, and exchanged guarded nods with Father Joe; it looked like the two of them had one of those frenemy relationships that were so common in Morganville. Oliver didn’t pray, at least not with the rest of them. He walked right over to Claire’s mother and said, “Your daughter has rendered the town a great service. There will be no charge for whatever treatments your husband may need. If it goes beyond what the doctors feel they can treat here, I will personally sign the paperwork to allow him to be transferred to another, larger facility out of town. And should one or both of you decide not to return, we will not object.”

That was . . . enormous, really. Claire sat, stunned, and just looked at him. He didn’t so much as spare her a glance. His luminous eyes were fixed on her mom, and there was a strange kind of gentleness in the way he spoke.

“I don’t know what to say,” Claire’s mom finally said. “I—Thank you.”

“My word is also the Founder’s word. Should you need anything, get word to me immediately. I’ll ensure it’s done.” He hesitated, then said, “Your daughter is impressive. Difficult, but impressive. I do not know you or your husband well, but I expect that you must be equally impressive to have such a child.”

Claire’s mom raised her chin, looked him in the eyes, and said, “What about my daughter?”

Oliver didn’t hesitate. “The offer doesn’t extend to Claire. She must remain in Morganville.”

“I’m not leaving her here alone.”

“She’s not alone,” Oliver said. “We can hardly pry her from those who care for her even at gunpoint. And your daughter is no helpless child. You’ll have to give her up to her own life, now or a year from now; what difference?”

Claire had never, ever seen her mother look like that—that focused, that fierce, that determined. Her mom put her arms around her, holding her in a tight, protective embrace. “I don’t have to give her up to you,” she said. “I know Claire’s capable of being on her own; I’ve known that for a long time. But she’s our child, now and always, and once my husband is better we’ll be back for her. You can’t keep her here forever.”