All three of us were shocked at Talbot's condition, including me, and I'd seen it already. Whoever had done this to him clearly didn't care whether he survived or not. Mom and I just sort of gaped at him; Dad, bless his heart, sat down next to Talbot and started a one-sided conversation about pretty much anything except law, hospitals, and people getting beaten up.
I was trying to figure out how in the world I'd managed not to admit I loved this man, and what I was going to do about it, when through the fog of my thoughts I heard Dad say, "Livingston brought you something." I put the flowers on his bedside table while I tried to think of something to say. Did Talbot's eyes mist up, or was that my imagination? Maybe it was the pain he must be in. Come on, Livingston Brookes, you hot shot l
