Nicole's knees buckled. Berry caught her elbow, her grip bruising.
"Can he hear us?" Sophie whispered.
The doctor's pager beeped. "Talk to him. It helps, sometimes."
The family filed into the ICU, their footsteps echoing. Charles lay motionless, tubes snaking from his arms, a machine breathing for him.
Sophie pressed her forehead to his hand. Nicole hovered in the doorway, her arms crossed tightly.
Quickly, Nicole slipped into the hallway; the ICU door hissed behind her.
She sat down at the reception. "It's supposed to be the best day," she whispered.
She returned to the house for a brief moment in her thoughts, with the leader's hands on her wrists and his foul breath as the bedroom door slammed.
She closed her eyes and sighed. "I lost everything in one night." What happened next?
With great force, she wiped down the specks of dirt on her jeans and checked to ensure it was unnoticeable.
The ICU exit door creaked open. As Berry steps out, she searches around looking for Nicole as soon as she sees her.
She drops next to Nicole. "Are you okay?" Berry from the cult said in a scratchy voice. Nicole gave a headshake. "No."
Berry prodded at a loose thread on her arm. "Please, neither of us." They sat motionless.
Berry's head dropped onto Nicole's shoulder, her breathing slowing. Nicole didn't move. Until the stars faded, she kept track of cars in the parking lot.
Waiting room windows opened to reveal morning light. Berry stirred, rubbing her eyes. Her legs were stiff, and Nicole's back was nauseous against the wall.
The man in the police uniform came towards Detective Rivera. The man's mustache and gravelly voice made him sound like "Nicole Perez, can we talk?"
Nicole replied. "Okay."
"Let's start from the beginning," Detective Rivera advised, breaking open a pen.
The speed with which Nicole spoke was comparable to that of a Band-Aid worker. "Seven gunmen were involved in the incident. They made me open the safe, and my father attempted to stop them." She swallowed the rest—the hands, the pain, the bedroom—and bit her tongue.
Berry bent over. "The leader was tattooed with a snake." She gave her neck a tap. "This is it. Like a rope, thick rope.
Detective Rivera scrawled notes. "Is there anything else?"
Nicole stated, "A black van." "No plates. The tires are covered in mud.
He nodded. "We'll find them.".
When he left, Nicole stood up straight away, saying: "I need to go to the toilet.".
As the nurse pointed down the hall, "Left, then right.".
Nicole's mind buzzed. Left, right, and then frozen were the directions she followed. The halls were all the same, with white walls and flickering lights.. Without any reflection, she pushed open a door labeled "Restroom."
Nicole pushed open the heavy bathroom door, her eyes vague from prostration. The fluorescent lights buzzed above, too bright. She didn't notice the urinals lining the wall.
Jonathan froze, paper towel crumpled in his fist. She was pretty — messy hair, dark circles under her eyes, but enough in a way that made his throat strain. She looked misplaced, like she'd forgotten how to breathe.
"Is this the bathroom? " Nicole asked, her voice coarse.
He blinked. "Uh. Yeah, but —"
"Wait," Jonathan said snappily, tossing the paper towel. "This is the men's room."
Nicole backed into the doorframe, mortified. " Oh my God. I'm sorry — "
"It's okay! " He held up his hands, like calming a sacrificed beast. Over near, he was higher than her, perhaps in his late twenties, with tousled brown hair.
Women's is across the hall. Are you good?"
She jounced, not meeting his eyes. " Yeah. Thanks."
As she hurried out, he saw the door close behind her.
In the women's restroom, Nicole splashed her face with cold water. Her reflection looked haunted, bruised on her jaw, nails stunk raw. Get it together, she told herself.
Jonathan was leaning against the wall hard when she stepped out, arms crossed. He uncurled, reluctant. " Hey. You need help finding your way back?"
She strengthened. "No. I'm fine."
He didn't move. " You're the girl from the ICU waiting room, right? Your father's the one who…" He traced off, awkward.
Nicole's throat closed. She pushed past him.
"Wait …." He caught her elbow gently. "Sorry. I'm Jonathan. I am sorry for what I said earlier. I didn't mean to"
"I have been here for two days now, my father is being diagnosed with arthritis," He added.
Jonathan, still holding her hands, then asked, "Please, I would like to have a conversation with you some other time if you don't mind."
She yanked her arm free. " I don't have that time to spare."
He raised his hands again, surrender-style. " Okay. Cool."
She hastened down the hall, his gaze burning her back.
Why was he gaping? she wondered. For a second, she pictured his face, messy hair.
"He is handsome", she admitted quietly. Also, her casket tensed. She shook her head hard, like erasing a whiteboard. "Stop. You don't have to think about that now."
She met Berry and Sophie in the waiting room. Sophie drooped in a chair, her eyes partially unrestricted.
"How's Dad?" Nicole asked.
Sophie rubbed her eyes. "Same. You?"
Nicole signed. "Tired."
A doctor in rumpled scrubs approached. "We're preparing Charles for surgery tomorrow. Go home. Rest. "
Sophie hesitated. "What if he wakes up?"
"We'll call," the doctor said gently. "Promise."
Nicole followed her family to the elevators, gaping at her phone. She didn't see the man around the corner until she collided with him.
Clatter. Her phone hit the bottom.
"Sorry —" she started, crouching to grab it.
Someone else bent down at the same time. Their hands brushed.
Nicole looked up.
Jonathan.
Their faces were inches apart. His eyes — hazel, blotched with gold — locked onto hers. For a twinkle, neither moved. The hospital noises faded.
He picked up her phone, handing it back. "You okay?"
She stood too fast, dizzy. "Yeah."
He smiled faintly. "Watch where you're going, yeah?"
She jumped, clutching her phone. Berry called her name from the elevator.
Jonathan stepped away, letting her pass. She felt his presence follow her down the hall.