Read Online Her Last Letter by Nancy C. Johnson - Free Book Online

drove with reckless speed, hoping Linda was telling the truth, that she wasn’t hurt badly. But how can you fall down a flight of stairs and judge that for yourself? And who the hell cared what the neighbors thought?
    I rushed through the front door calling her name. She was laid out on the couch, eyes shut, and for a second I wasn’t sure if she was conscious. Then she turned her head and tried to smile.
    “God, Linda, don’t scare me like this.” I knelt beside her. “You look awful. Is anything broken? How’s your head?”
    “I don’t know. I tried to get up and I felt nauseous, a little dizzy.”
    “Let me call an ambulance. This is ridiculous.”
    “No, don’t. I’ll be fine. Just give me a minute.”
    Slowly, Linda tried to rise, easing her legs off the couch and gradually coming to a sitting position. “Whew-okay. One second, then we’ll try it.”
    “Linda, this is really stupid. What if you faint and I drop you? It’s a long way to the Jeep.”
    “No, we’re going to do this.”
    I helped her up, supporting her under the arms as she attempted to come to her feet. Holding her tightly across the back and shoulders, I felt her legs shake from the effort to take her own weight.
    “Are you sure you’re okay? You’re not going to pass out?”
    “No. I’m okay.”
    We carefully made our way out the front door and down the concrete walk to the driveway. Still holding Linda tightly, I struggled to open the car door. Finally, I managed to unlatch it and push it open with my knee. I stopped to take a breath, knowing this was one of the dumbest things I’d ever let Linda talk me into. “Okay, can you get in the car?”
    “Wait,” she said, and I could almost see the nausea roll over her deathly white face.
    “God, Linda. What are we doing?”
    She lifted one foot onto the floor of the Jeep, then reached up for the seat. Lifting and pushing, I shoved her inside, then fastened her seat belt.
    I scrambled to the driver’s side, jammed the Jeep into reverse and backed onto the road. Linda groaned, then coughed, her head listing toward the window. I watched from the corner of my eye, experiencing a wave of panic so strong I felt close to passing out myself.
    I barely remember the drive to the hospital, but the look on my face must have been something because two orderlies rushed out to help me get Linda into the emergency room.
    The doctor, a silver-haired gentleman with a dimple in his chin, seemed to take it all in stride. I watched as he went about his preliminary examination of Linda.
    “She wouldn’t let me call an ambulance,” I added quietly as the doctor held her chin up and shined a small beamed instrument into her eye.
    “And do you always do what your sister says?” he asked, never taking his eyes off his patient, who appeared too sick to say a word.
    I stood there, shamefaced and silent, knowing he’d assessed the situation exactly.
    “We’ll need to keep her overnight for observation,” he said. “She has a concussion. That’s the most serious issue, and some contusions, scrapes. We’ll check her out thoroughly for any internal problems. Do you know how this happened?”
    “She fell down the basement stairs. I don’t know the details. She called me and-”
    “I tripped,” Linda breathed softly.
    “That’s okay,” said the doctor. “Don’t talk if it’s difficult for you.” He turned to me. “We’ll get her into a room as soon as we finish here and receive the results of the tests. You can take a seat outside now and we’ll call you when she’s settled in.” He smiled briefly.
    “Thank you, doctor.”
    I continued dialing Wolfgang until he finally returned my call on the cell.
    “Your wife’s in the hospital,” I stated darkly.
    “She’s where?”
    “You heard me.”
    “Is she okay? What happened?”
    “No, she’s not okay. She has a concussion, bruises, maybe other serious stuff. They’re still checking her out. She fell down the stairs and she’s been