“That does indicate that your attacker was probably someone you knew and trusted,” Dad said. “After all, if you didn’t trust someone—”
Grandfather yawned suddenly.
“Looks like the sedative is finally working,” Dad said. “We should let him sleep.”
“If you remember anything, have the nurses call me,” the chief said.
Grandfather nodded, his eyes already closed. Dad and the chief began quietly walking out of the room. I was about to follow them when Grandfather mumbled something.
I went to the head of his bed and bent closer.
“What was that?” I kept my voice soft enough that if he’d already fallen asleep it wouldn’t wake him.
“I hate hospitals,” he said.
I looked around. The management had made an effort to gussy up the room so it didn’t look quite so much like most people’s idea of a hospital. They’d hung curtains on the windows and art prints on the walls, and painted the walls in soft, dark colors. The room I’d been in with the twins had been forest green with tan woodwork and a framed reproduction of a Rousseau jungle print on the wall beyond the foot of the bed. Grandfather had slate blue, chocolate brown, and Picasso.
Unfortunately, the hospital’s efforts didn’t do much to disguise the fact that you were in a hospital room—they just made it look like a cross between a hospital room and a budget motel chain. A drop ceiling with acoustic tiles made the room less cold and echoing than the corridors, but it was still clearly something you’d usually only see in an institution. And it was hard to forget you were in a hospital when you were attached to an IV bag and a couple of monitors that beeped or hummed every few seconds.
“I know what you mean,” I said. “I’ll see you later.”
Out in the hallway I found Dad and the chief halfway down the corridor, talking quietly.
“—have to wait and see,” Dad was saying.
“What about hypnosis?” the chief asked.
“That can be successful in cases of this kind,” Dad said. “But I think trying it right now might be premature. Too stressful for the patient, and not really that likely to produce results. The first thing to do is let the brain heal.”
The chief nodded.
“Can you wait a moment, Meg?” Dad asked.
I wanted to say no, I was going home to be with my kids. But he and the chief both looked exhausted and I didn’t want to cause either of them any more hassle. So I nodded, and Dad dashed back down the hall toward my grandfather’s room.
Chapter 23
“Just a moment. Yeah, right,” I murmured, although not loud enough for Dad to hear. I’d known him to say he’d be back in a moment and not turn up for hours. I looked at my watch. Fifteen minutes, I decided, and then I was going looking for him.
I went down to wait by the elevators. There was a bench, but I was afraid if I sat down, I’d keel over fast asleep. So I stayed vertical, pulled out my cell phone, and called Michael.
“Josh and Jamie’s residence,” Michael answered.
“I’m glad you have your priorities straight,” I said. “How are they doing?”
“They woke, they cried, they received new diapers, they ate, they burped, and they’ve gone back to sleep to work up the energy to do it all over again for you when you get home. How’s your grandfather?”
“Conscious, and starting to sound like his old self again. He may or may not ever remember how it happened, but Dad says he’ll be fine.”
“Good,” he said. “I want the boys to get to know their great-grandfather. Even if he is disappointed with how much slower human babies develop compared to the young of other primates. Orangutans, for example.”
“He said that?”
“I think he was joking.”
“He’d better be,” I said. “Or I’ll go and whack him a few more times myself. Sorry to leave you to handle so much of today all by yourself.”
“No problem,” he said. “Rose Noire was here most of the day, and when she had to leave, I recruited help. For the record, Clarence is a fairly promising babysitter prospect, but Caroline’s technique clearly shows that she’s had a lot more experience feeding creatures with hooves or claws.”
“Oh, dear.”
“Not to worry,” he said. “She was a hoot. That reminds me—in case Rob asks, our little video camera’s in the shop.”
“In the shop? Why? What’s wrong with it?”
“Nothing’s wrong with it, and I’ll probably let him borrow it once I’ve had a chance to download all our video. We can replace a lost camera, but I wouldn’t want to lose this week’s footage of the boys. And Rob already lost his own this weekend.”