“Go.  Now. I’ll find someone who can give you some information on Melissa and go back out to the waiting room to see if anyone else is here yet.”  Axel gives me a shove before walking back down the hallway we just came down.

With a deep breath, I reach out and open the curtain.  I couldn’t have helped the sob that bubbles out audibly if I tried.

“Daddy!”  His voice wobbles, and his chin quivers.

With one word, my body wakes up and I all but fall to his side.  The nurse standing at his side jumps out of my way and allows me to fall to my knees next to the hospital bed that is all but swallowing his small body whole.

“Oh, God… Cohen.”

“You can hold his right hand, sir.  We’re just about done with his left side.”

I pull my eyes from Cohen’s for the first time since opening the curtain and notice another person in the room working on stitching up part of his forearm.  I can’t see much more because of the angle, but I can see the amount of blood surrounding him, and it feels like a knife has just shot through my heart.

I don’t even look up at the other nurse I almost ran over.  I pick Cohen’s hand up and press it to my lips, breathing in his scent.

“I couldn’t help Mommy.”  His hand squeezes mine tight, his body shaking so hard that he’s vibrating the bed.

“It’s okay, baby.  It’s okay.  Mommy’s tough.  She’s going to be just fine.”

Looking into his eyes, which are normally so full of life, and seeing the pain, fear, and stark, cold terror, I know he doesn’t believe a word out of my mouth.  If I’m honest with myself, I know that I sound more like I’m begging than I am reassuring.

“Miss?  Is there any way I can get some information on his mother?  My wife?  She was in the accident as well.”  I look into Cohen’s scared eyes, thankful that he’s here and keeping me from tearing this hospital to the ground until I find Melissa.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t have any information on the other person in the vehicle.  Let me go see what I can find out.”

It feels like an eternity while I sit there with Cohen, watching them stitch up different parts of his left arm.  From what I can see, the worst of his injuries seem to be the millions of little cuts on almost every open surface of skin on his left side.  He seems tired but otherwise just really banged up.

I take the first real breath I’ve breathed since I got Beck’s call earlier.

Now I just need to know that Melissa and the girls are okay.  It is literally killing me with each second that audibly ticks away from the clock in the corner.  Without knowing, every single one of those seconds begins to feel like hope flying farther and farther away from my grasp.

It isn’t long after they finished cleaning all his cuts and stitching up the deeper ones that Cohen fell asleep.  I know it’s the crash from the adrenalin and the pain medication that they gave him, but I hate it.  I want to be able to see his eyes and know that he’s okay.

I keep one hand around his and the other placed lightly on his stomach so that I can feel his breaths causing it to rise and fall.

And I wait.

I almost jump out of my skin when the door finally opens again and a forty-something doctor enters.  His expression doesn’t give anything away as he walks farther into the room, stopping at the foot of Cohen’s bed.  I stare into his dark blue eyes, both praying for the best and fearing the worst.

It isn’t until I look down and notice ‘OBGYN’ on his white jacket that I feel something akin to terror crawl down my spine.

“Mr. Cage?”

I nod, afraid to speak.

“I’m Dr. Lowery.  I know you’re asking about your wife, and I apologize that I don’t know more.  About two hours ago, I performed an emergency Cesarean section on your wife.  My job was to quickly deliver both of your daughters safely, and the last I heard, your wife is still in surgery.  Both of your daughters are stable and in the NICU.  Mr. Cage, I know you and your wife were told about the possibility that she wouldn’t make it to term, but it’s going to be a long road ahead for your daughters.”

I close my eyes, feeling my despair fall one tear at a time down my face.  I listen to every word that Dr. Lowery speaks.  Steroids, feeding tubes, antibiotics, nasal CPAP, and monitors.  I hear the words, but I don’t understand them.  My girls shouldn’t be here yet, and no matter what he said earlier about Melissa being in surgery, the only thing that I can focus on is that if my girls had to be removed from their mother early, how badly is she injured?