Chapter Thirty Eight
550 Words
The sliding doors of St. Joseph’s Emergency whooshed open with a gust of dead, recycled air.
Ryan burst through like a man late to his own parade — dragging Evan by the hand, who looked too pretty, too polished for the grim, fluorescent hell of the waiting room.
Evan squeezed Ryan’s hand tighter, flashing a bright, hopeful grin.
Ryan grinned back — jittery, electric — practically towing him forward like a prize he wanted to show off.
“There they are,” Ryan muttered, spotting Chloe slumped in a corner chair.
He half-laughed under his breath.
“Jesus, she looks like someone shot her puppy.”
Evan chuckled awkwardly, following Ryan’s lead — unsure but loyal.
Ryan sauntered up to Chloe, still riding the high of self-righteous adrenaline.
“Miss me, sis?” he teased, voice pitched just a little too loud for the room.
Chloe looked up.
One look.
That was all it took.
Her face didn’t move.
No smile.
No relief.
Just two hollowed-out, burning eyes that cut through Ryan’s forced cheer like a scalpel.
The color drained from his face.
The smile slid off Evan’s mouth too — slow, confused, cracking.
Before Ryan could blurt something stupid —
before Evan could even squeeze his hand in warning —
a nurse appeared beside them, clipboard hugged to her chest like a shield.
“Family of Leia Cole?” she asked briskly.
Chloe shot to her feet.
“Yes.”
Ryan nodded, stunned into silence.
The nurse didn’t soften.
Didn’t cushion it.
Didn’t offer pity.
“She’s been moved to ICU,” she said.
“She’s currently intubated and on high-dose antibiotics. We’re treating her for acute respiratory failure complicated by sepsis.”
The words hit the floor like gunshots.
Ryan blinked at her.
Slow.
Stupid.
“What…what does that mean?” Evan asked timidly.
The nurse’s expression didn’t waver.
“We’re doing everything we can. But she’s extremely ill. It’s critical.”
Ryan staggered back a step.
The world spun savagely under his feet, the fluorescent lights tilting sickly.
He dropped Evan’s hand without thinking — like it had burned him.
Chloe didn’t flinch.
Didn’t blink.
Just stood there, fists clenched at her sides, holding herself together by sheer, ragged will.
The nurse gave a tight nod.
“Someone will update you as soon as possible.”
And then she was gone —
vanishing down the sterile, humming corridor without a glance back.
⸻
Ryan stood frozen.
His throat worked uselessly around a lump the size of a fist.
Evan touched his arm gently, whispering:
“Ryan…?”
Ryan jerked away without meaning to, face crumbling.
Ugly.
Bare.
He turned blindly, slamming into a chair, elbows braced on his knees, hands clawing into his hair like he could rip the moment apart.
Evan hovered — helpless — then sank into a seat a cautious few feet away.
Chloe didn’t move.
Didn’t speak.
She just stared at the blank TV screen bolted high in the corner of the ceiling, her whole body vibrating with an anger she didn’t have words for.
⸻
Ryan wiped his face roughly, breath stuttering out of him in broken gasps.
And for the first time in his shallow, selfish, too-late little life —
he realized he wasn’t the main character anymore.
Not even close.
- Writer
