Emma Bolles stepped back, giving space to the medical staff caring for her father. Her gaze stayed fixed on his bruised and damaged body. Placing trembling fingers against her mouth, her mind tried to make sense of the commotion unfolding before her.
James Bolles was unconscious, with bandages on his head and his cycling shirt and shorts cut open, revealing deep lacerations and broken limbs. A doctor began calling out commands as he scrubbed his hands over a sink.
Emma stepped forward and touched her father’s shoulder, and whispered to him, “You’re going to survive this.”
A nurse said to her in a kind voice, “Step back and give us room to work on him.”
A doctor listened to his chest and asked for someone to cut off the rest of his clothing. A staff member yanked the curtain closed.
Moving away from the closed curtain, Emma motioned for her mother and brothers to give the medical personnel space.
Her mother clung to her brother Samuel’s arm, and said, “He shouldn’t be seen in such a compromised way. We have to move him to a hospital that will protect him. The Royal London Hospital can’t possibly provide enough privacy.”
Jeremy glanced at Emma before turning back to their mother. “He can’t be moved until he’s stable. This is the best place for him right now.”
Looking at each of her brothers, Emma said, “I can’t believe you were able to get here so quickly.”
Samuel said, “I had a meeting in London.”
Jeremy nodded. “Same. I was only a few blocks away.”
Emma tapped her fingers against her breastbone. Her father wasn’t a thrill seeker. How could he have not seen the lorry? It didn’t make sense. He biked nearly every day and stayed to the same route.
The last few weeks flashed through her mind. He had seemed distracted, barely speaking to her and staying hidden away in his office. There were murmurings among the staff that budgets were being slashed. She had stayed in the design studio, finishing the work on their new Spring collection.
Samuel offered her a water bottle. “You should take a sip of water. You look pale.”
Emma looked at him. “I can’t understand how this happened. I saw him an hour ago.”
He placed an arm around her shoulders. “He’ll pull through, Em.”
Jeremy was speaking in soothing tones to their mother but Georgia clutched her pearl necklace and was shaking her head.
“What if he never wakes up?” her mother shrieked.
Moving closer to her mother, Emma touched her hand. “Mum, the accident just happened. We have to give the doctors time to figure out what his injuries are and the best way to help him. We can’t imagine the worst or rush this process.”
Her mother stared at her. “I can’t stay in this cold, sterile place hoping that he wakes up. There are reporters downstairs, ready to pull our family apart.”
Jeremy pinched the bridge of his nose. “Maybe you should go home and rest for a while. I can get you when Dad starts to wake up. Sam, can you take her home?”
Her mother clutched her throat. “What if he wakes up and I’m not here?”
Samuel said to Georgia, “It’ll be hours before we can see him. I’ll come and get you if he wakes up tonight.”
Her mother clutched her arm. “You should go to Francis Bolles and release a statement. Tell everyone that he’ll be fine.”
Emma pushed her hair over her shoulder. “It’s too soon, mum. We don’t know anything.”
Georgia’s mouth tightened. “Your father would want the couture house protected. If we show weakness, it could destroy everything he has spent his life working towards.”
Nodding, Emma said, “I’ll handle it. I’ll deal with the PR aspects later this evening.”
She looked at her mother but decided to not be drawn into a conversation. Her mother was in shock. But she wouldn’t make any type of statement before she knew her father would pull through.
“Good. I’ll head back to the house and collect myself.” Her mother’s voice broke and Samuel stepped in to guide her to the back service elevator.

Emma watched them leave and asked Jeremy, “You do think that he’s going to pull through?”
Jeremy straightened his shoulders. “I can’t imagine his day has come.”
Emma bit her lip. Jeremy’s wife was pregnant. The baby would be the first grandchild. Her father had been so excited about the prospect of a new generation. “Let’s find a nurse and see if they can tell us what’s happening.”
An older nurse brought them into a small office and hovered by the door. “I’ll let the doctor know that you want to speak with him. He’s reviewing the stat results and talking with his team. You may need to wait a little bit.”
Emma nodded and held up her hands. “I understand. We don’t want to interrupt the doctor, but we are worried.”
The nurse nodded, “The waiting is hard.” She went back behind closed doors.
Jeremy ran a hand through his hair. “We should talk with the hospital about getting additional security in place.”
Emma held her arms against her body. She hoped her father would survive the night.
After nearly thirty minutes, a trauma doctor stepped into the cramped office. “Your father is still unconscious, but the images are beginning to come back. He does have a head injury but there isn’t a major bleed. In terms of his body, his pelvis is fractured, several organs have been damaged and there are fractures in both legs. I’ve called in specialists, but I don’t think they’ll operate tonight. In these situations, it’s best to let the patient stabilize and then take care of broken bones in a day or two. Our strategy right now is to keep him comfortable, give him fluids, and make sure his vital signs are stable.”
Jeremy pulled Emma close. “He’ll survive this?”
The doctor placed his hand on the door knob. “I can’t say for sure. The next twenty-four hours are critical. His injuries are severe, but his vitals are strong, which is encouraging.”
Emma held onto Jeremy’s arm. “Can we see him?”
The doctor pulled the door open. “He’s unconscious. You should keep the visit short and then the nurse will show you to a private waiting room.”
Emma nodded. Her eyes began to fill with tears. It didn’t seem real. Turning away, she wiped her tears with her fingers and took in a steadying breath.
They walked into the trauma unit together and the male nurse left quietly.
Worry flowed through her. Her father looked pale and unresponsive, nothing like the vibrant, opinionated man that he projected to the world. The blood had been washed away and he had a breathing tube in. He was vulnerable and it was their job to protect him now.
She couldn’t imagine the couture house without him. He practically lived there. He had done everything possible to bring the business back into profit after a series of missteps and scandals.
Jeremy held onto the side rails. “It’s going to take time for him to recover.”
“I know.” Her voice sounded far away. Her father was weak and fragile.
Emma sat in a chair near his bed and said a silent prayer.
She stood and looked at her father. Did all of the recent stress cause him to not pay attention to traffic? London could be insane during commuting time. “We have to make sure that he gets the best possible care.”
The male nurse came back in and adjusted the IV. “I need to draw more blood.”
Emma nodded. “We’ll move to the waiting room. Please let us know if there’s a change?”
The nurse looked at her briefly, “Yes. We’ll let you know immediately if anything changes.”
They walked down a deserted corridor to a small waiting room.
Jeremy paced for a moment then turned to her. “I know Dad poured his life and soul into Francis Bolles. But you have a choice. You don’t have to take it on.”
She couldn’t walk away from the couture house. “Many of our employees have spent their entire careers with us. When Dad recovers, I want him to have the option of returning.”
He crossed his arms. “Your ability to design new garments is extraordinary, Em. Our grandparents would be enormously proud of what you’ve accomplished in the last few years. But I’ve read the recent financial statements. Francis Bolles is close to going under. Our grandparents wouldn’t want you stuck with all of the trouble. Let’s face it, too many scandals have plagued our family and have nothing to do with us.”
She looked away from him. “The numbers don’t tell the entire story. And in large part, we’ve moved past the bad press. Uncle Oliver has been dead for years.”
Jeremy sat on a leather chair and leaned forward. “True. But Dad hasn’t been able to solve the financial issues that all couture houses face. It’s expensive and without proper backing, it’ll fail.”

Her gaze flitted around the room, not settling on anything in particular. “Do you believe he’ll recover?”
Jeremy remained silent for a moment and then said, “He’s in good physical condition and the doctors here will do everything possible. But he has many broken bones and damaged organs.”
Emma stood up and wiped away a few tears. There was nothing she could do but wait.
Jeremy stood up and pulled her into a tight embrace. She reminded herself to be strong. Others were counting on her.
He led her over to the sofa and she sat down.
Emma massaged her temples. “My head feels odd. It must be the stress.”
Jeremy removed his tie. “Are you hungry? It’s nearly nine o’clock and you’ve probably not eaten in hours.”
She took in a deep breath. “I don’t think so.”
He checked his phone. “Ava is bringing over coffee and sandwiches. We should eat something.”
Slipping his phone back into his pocket, he said, “I see a hospital administrator in the hall. I’m going to speak with her about additional security and limiting access until we can move Dad to a private facility.”
Emma thought about the couture house. Her father insisted on secrecy and control. How would she possibly convince the board that she could pull all of it together without his involvement? Her father hadn’t wanted to lay off employees, but most of their assets had been compromised with significant loans.
At nearly two o’clock in the morning, she and Jeremy decided to leave the hospital for a few hours of sleep.
He pushed the button for the main elevator. “Are you sure that you’re ready to give a statement?”
Emma smoothed down her green linen skirt. “I came from work, so luckily I’m dressed appropriately.”
Jeremy leaned against the wall. “We were raised getting ready for photo opportunities, so it’s hard to imagine you’d look rumpled or disheveled in any situation.”
Emma gave him a small smile. Her older brother may work in architecture, she thought, but he looked polished and presentable in any situation. He had re-fastened his tie and his suit looked neatly pressed after countless hours in the waiting room.
The hospital administrator preceded them into the elevator. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. Her role was to exude confidence and make everyone believe her father would survive.
When the doors opened to the lobby, she saw a few reporters off to the side.
As Emma stepped in front of a microphone, a reporter called out, “Is James Bolles dead?”
Emma took in a steadying breath and then said, “No. As you know, my father was gravely injured this evening when he was riding his bike. A lorry struck him. We don’t know all the details yet. He does have a head injury and numerous broken bones, including a fractured pelvis. This hospital is known for its trauma center. But even with wonderful care, my father will need time to recover.”
A man wearing a baseball cap called out, “Has his doctor said that he’ll recover?”
Emma grasped Jeremy’s arm. Adrenaline flowed through her body, causing her heart to race and a bitter taste to flood her mouth. “It’s too soon for his doctor to give any specific predictions. But we have been told that he’s stable and resting.”
Another reporter asked, “Who will lead Francis Bolles while your father is recovering?”
Emma crossed her arms and attempted to push away images of her father lying in a hospital bed. “We haven’t had time to make a decision.”
She had been the head designer for the last three years at Francis Bolles, but she had no idea if the board was going to appoint her as the interim director. Besides her father, she was the only remaining Bolles at the couture house, but the board could act in odd ways.
Jeremy put up his hands. “We are not taking any further questions. We are exhausted and my father is in good hands.”
Emma said, “Thank you for being here. I know it’s late.”
The hospital administrator guided them out through the front lobby doors.
A uniformed security guard opened the car door for Emma and she slipped into the passenger seat.
Her brother opened his door and thanked the guard. Climbing in, he asked, “Are you okay? Do you want to go back to your place or you could come home with me?”