“Matt? Is everything okay?”
“Do you remember the hospital after my accident?”
“Of course.”
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I didn’t know a damn thing.
I sent her Hannah’s photo.
“Have you ever seen this woman?”
The dots appeared and disappeared three times.
Then: “Yes. I remember her.”
“Where from?”
“The hospital. That night.”
I texted Rachel.
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“Are you sure?”
“Pretty sure. I remember her face.”
“Do you know her name?”
“No. Why?”
I told her we’d met online, and that Hannah had run out on our first date.
“I remember her.”
Rachel was quiet. Then:
“Can I tell you something?”
“What?”
“I was awful to you.”
I said nothing.
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“You saved my life. And I walked away when you needed me.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. You did.”
“I’m sorry. I was scared.”
“I know.”
“Maybe we could get coffee sometime?”
I almost laughed.
“Rachel, I don’t hate you. But that part of my life is over.”
“You saved my life.”
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Rachel had apparently saved that apology for three years.
She picked a great day to deliver it. But she’d given me one useful thing.
Hannah and I had crossed paths before, on the worst night of my life.
I called the hospital.
“Could you connect me with Nancy? “
A minute later, I heard a familiar voice.
“I’m sorry. I was scared.”
“Matt? Is everything okay?”
“I need to ask you something. In person.”
“Sounds serious.”
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“It is.”
“Come by this afternoon.”
“I’ll be there.”
I called the hospital.
Nancy hugged me the second I rolled in.
“Look at you! You look so much better!”
“Thanks. I’ve been working on it.”
“Still cooking?”
“Always.”
We chatted for a few minutes.
“I need to ask you something.”
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Then I took out my phone.
“Do you remember her?”
Nancy squinted at the screen.
“Oh. Hannah.”
“You know her?”
“Of course.”
“I’ll be there.”
“Can you tell me anything about her?”
She sighed.
“Poor girl. She still feels so guilty about what happened to you.”
The room went silent.
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“Guilty?”
Nancy’s face changed.
“Do you remember her?”
“Oh. I probably shouldn’t have said that.”
“Guilty about what?”
“Matt, forget I said anything.”
“Have you talked to her?”
She looked at the wall.
“I can’t discuss this.”
“Poor girl.”
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“Please. Just tell me what she did.”
“I can’t.”
I looked at the photo again.
A car hit me three years ago. They never found the driver.
Now Hannah had run from me, and Nancy said she felt guilty.
No… This is ridiculous.
“I can’t discuss this.”
“Just tell her I’m looking for her.”
Nancy thought for a moment.
“I’ll tell her you came by.”
That didn’t help me sleep. I lay in bed that night staring at the ceiling.
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Whatever she’d done, I wanted to hear it from her.
Someone knocked on my door the next morning.
They never found the driver.
I opened it, and Hannah was standing there.
Her eyes were swollen from crying.
“Hannah, I’m so sorry. I should’ve told you from the start, and…”
“Stop.”
“I know I…”
“Matt.” Her voice shook. “The wheelchair? Is that really why you think I ran?”
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That didn’t help me sleep.
I didn’t know what to say.
“Nancy called. She said you came by.”
“I just needed answers.”
“I know.”
She stepped inside and reached for my hand.
Tears rolled down her cheeks.
“The wheelchair? Is that really why you think I ran?”
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She squeezed my hand.
“The night you were hit by that car… there’s something I have to tell you.”
I felt my pulse in my throat.
“Were you…”
“No,” she said fast. “No. I wasn’t driving. God, Matt, is that what you thought?”
“Nancy said you felt guilty.”
Tears rolled down her cheeks.
“I do.”
“Then why?”
“Because I was there.”
“Where?”
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“At the hospital. I was your nurse.”
I stared at her.
“Nancy said you felt guilty.”
“My shift was over. But they were short-staffed, so Nancy asked me to stay.”
“Why don’t I remember you?”
“You were unconscious. Then you were on heavy pain medication.”
“So we talked?”
“A little. You kept asking for Rachel.”
“And?”
“I was your nurse.”
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