You Can't Hide Theresa Sneed (top 10 non fiction books of all time .TXT) đź“–
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- Author: Theresa Sneed
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“Yes. Bangor International Airport—10 a.m.”
“You came all this way to see Karen. That’s a pretty long trip.”
MJ nodded. “Yep.”
Sam cricked his neck. “Elle told me that you helped Karen through her breakup with Todd.”
“Exactly.” MJ glanced sideways at him. “Yes, that’s exactly what I did.” He leaned forward, like he was looking for something in the rain.
It seemed odd for MJ to be searching so intently for anything in that rain. Almost into town, Sam slowed down for a sharp corner. Difficult to maneuver on a good night, the heavy rain made it nearly impossible to see. Something thumped his side, and then suddenly, MJ’s hand shot to the wheel, and he pulled it hard to the right.
“Look out,” MJ yelled. The jeep careened off the road and rolled over several times, before it came to a sudden stop, upside down, against a tree.
Three
The Accident
Elle fell asleep on the couch waiting for Sam to return. A loud rap sounded at the door. She glanced at the clock. Clutching her blanket to her chest, she stumbled across the floor, barely aware of her grandmother’s bedroom door opening. “Did you forget your key, Sam?”
Even though Sam didn’t live there, he did have a key. When he hadn’t returned from taking MJ to the hotel, she figured he must’ve decided to stay at his cabin, instead of making the long drive around the lake to Grammie Gwen’s. But now, the loud knocking meant something more than she could fathom. “Sam?” she asked through the door.
“It’s me, John.”
She opened the door. “What are you doing here at this hour?” John was dressed in his police uniform. This was an official visit. She couldn’t move—couldn’t breathe. Grandpa Joe came up next to her and put his arm around her shoulder. He led her to the table and helped her sit down.
Elle clung to his arm. Her voice shook. “Why’s he here, Grandpa?”
Grammie Gwen came out of her room. She wrapped a robe around her nightgown. Her worried eyes fell on the sheriff. “What is it?”
John shook his head. “Sam . . . his jeep . . .” He couldn’t go on.
Elle’s heart beat fast. She trembled vehemently. “No. No. No!”
John hurried to her side. “I wish I had better news. He’s not dead, Elle, but he’s not responsive either.”
“Not responsive?” Elle looked from one face to the next, all reflecting her feelings of shock and despair. “What happened?”
Karen came down the steps. Her eyebrows furrowed when she caught sight of the sheriff. “What’s wrong?”
John pulled out a chair beside Elle. “Sam went off the road and flipped the jeep several times.” Elle sobbed, and he placed his hand on her shoulder.
“Oh, Elle.” Karen wrapped her arms around her friend.
“He’s lucky he was in a jeep—that roll bar probably saved his life.”
Karen shook her head. “What about MJ?”
John gave her an odd look. “MJ? There wasn’t anybody in the jeep, but Sam.”
“He must have been on the way back then,” Karen said. “He took MJ to the Blethen House.”
“In that storm?”
She nodded then went to the phone, in a few minutes she was back. “He’s at the hotel.”
“I’m glad he wasn’t . . .” Elle couldn’t finish the sentence.
Gwen looked at the rain beating against the windowpane. “At least that’s some good news,” she mumbled.
“They’re taking Sam to EMMC,” John said. “I can take you there if you’d like.”
“No, I think we’ll all be going,” Joe said.
“Yes, of course, then, I’ll meet you there.” John opened the door to leave. “What I don’t get is why Sam wasn’t wearing a seatbelt, especially in a storm like that.”
“No, that would never happen, John,” Elle said. “He never goes without a seatbelt, not even on these backroads at the lake.”
“Well, either he was too flustered to snap one on, or it came undone when the jeep rolled, but he was clearly not wearing a seatbelt.”
Elle pulled herself up from the table. “I’ve got to go. I’ve got to be with him.” She wavered and held on to the table. “But, what will we do about Sally? She can’t see . . . can’t see him . . .” She broke down in tears.
“Go,” Karen said, taking her shaking hands. “I’ll stay here with Sally. Take all the time you need.”
Gwen and Joe rushed back into the room. “Are you ready?”
Elle glanced down at her clothes. She had fallen asleep fully clothed. “Yes, I’m ready, but I can’t . . . I can’t drive.”
“I wasn’t expecting you to,” Joe said. “Come on.”
Normally, she didn’t like to go places when Papa Joe drove, always finding excuses to drive herself. He tended to have a lead foot, but right now, she was counting on it. John waited for them, and as soon as they got in their car, the lights flashed on his police car.
Papa Joe followed him close all the way to Bangor. At the hospital, Grammie Gwen looped her arm through Elle’s, and they rushed into the hospital.
John hurried in beside them. “I called ahead.”
A nurse met them at the entrance and guided them through the hospital. “Sam’s in surgery,” she said, taking them to a waiting room.
Elle grabbed her arm. “Can you tell us anything?”
The nurse studied her eyes. “He received a severe blow to his head. There’s bleeding in and around his brain.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry.”
Elle fell into the couch. She looked up at the nurse. “What does that mean?”
“The doctors are trying to relieve the pressure on his brain. It’s swollen, as would be expected in a traumatic brain injury.”
“Will he recover?”
The nurse laid her hand on Elle’s arm. “I’ve seen it go either way.”
“How long will the surgery last?”
“That depends, but at least four hours. I’ll be back when there’s any news, and of course, the doctor will come to see you when the surgery is over.” She gave Elle a sad look, and then she left.
Papa sat down beside Elle and pulled her
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