Cassian’s phone buzzed for the second time in ten seconds, so he figured it was probably time to check it. He wiped his eyes groggily and looked away from the computer screen, where he was nearly done coding this damn program for Draven.
He didn’t even bother to check the number, just swiped his thumb across the screen and popped the phone next to his ear. “Cassian Andor speaking.” He tilted back on his chair slightly, pushing down on his toes, trying to stretch out his lower back.
“Mr. Andor?” It was a voice he didn’t recognize, professional, calm. Almost too calm. He let the chair tip back forward, the legs slamming into the ground.
“Yes?”
“This is Trish Stephens, from Alderaan Memorial Hospital.” Low buzzing filled his ears, a cold trickle down his spine. “I’m calling about Jyn Erso.”
“What about her?” He snapped, pretending the name didn’t hit him like a sucker punch to the gut, pretending that dread wasn’t currently threatening to drag him under. Maybe she forgot to pay her bill from her wrist surgery last spring, he reasoned. But why would they be calling me?
“Mr. Andor, I’m calling to let you know that Ms. Erso has been in an accident.” His chair was thrown backwards as he staggered to his feet. The buzzing in his ears swelled to a dull roar, and he barely made out the woman’s next words. “-in surgery now, and the doctors are doing all they can.”
Cassian grabbed his jacket and keys, fumbling with the phone. “I don’t understand – why is she there?”
The woman had probably already said that, but she spoke with just as much calm as before. “She was in an accident. It appears that a truck ran a red light and hit her car” – that old hunk of junk, Cassian had always been begging her to buy something safer – “Luckily, she was only three minutes out from the hospital. We can fill you in with more information when you get here.”
“Yeah, yeah, of course.” Cassian cleared his throat and sprinted through the office, ignoring the confused questions of his co-workers. “Be right there.”