Chapter Thirty-Four
501 Words
Chloe’s hands shook on the steering wheel, the seatbelt slicing into her ribs as she swerved onto the main road, tires screaming louder than she meant them to.
The ambulance’s flashing lights bled into the distance ahead, a pulse she couldn’t catch.
She was alone.
Alone with the pounding thunder of her heart and the metallic tang of panic clawing her tongue.
⸻
She stabbed Ryan’s name on her phone screen, thumb slick with sweat, the speaker blaring into the cramped car.
It rang once.
Twice.
He picked up — sharp, annoyed.
“What.”
“Ryan—” she gasped, the words crashing out in one broken wave.
“It’s Mom. She’s bad. They’re taking her to St. Joseph’s. Ryan—it’s—it’s bad—”
She didn’t realize she was crying until she tasted salt, hot and bitter.
A heartbeat of silence.
Too long.
Then:
“Is this because of the flu? Are you serious right now?”
His tone cut her open.
“I called 911!” she shouted, weaving around a truck that blurred past her peripheral vision.
“She’s hallucinating, Ryan! She couldn’t even recognize me!”
Another silence.
Different this time.
Sinking.
He inhaled sharply — ragged, stripped raw.
“I’m coming,” he said, voice low and scared now.
“I’m on my way.”
The line went dead before she could even breathe.
⸻
Chloe tossed the phone into the passenger seat with a shaky sob.
Her heart jackhammered against the bruises blooming inside her ribs.
She wiped her face hard against her sleeve, grabbed the phone again, and punched Owen’s name without thinking.
It rang.
And rang.
And rang.
On the fifth ring, Owen finally picked up, voice flat and irritated:
“What.”
“Dad,” she said, the word tearing out of her like a wound.
“It’s Mom.”
Another long pause.
Heavy.
Rotting.
She pressed the phone tighter to her ear, desperate.
“She’s in an ambulance. She’s going to the hospital. I’m following them. She’s—she’s really bad, Dad—”
Owen exhaled loudly, like she’d just ruined his afternoon.
“You sure this isn’t just another overreaction?” he said, cold enough to burn.
Chloe nearly swerved off the goddamn road.
“She’s hallucinating, Dad!” she screamed, tears blurring the world to nothing but white and pain.
“She didn’t even know who I was!”
Silence.
Colder this time.
Harsher.
Then Owen’s voice, even flatter:
“Let me know what the doctors say.”
The call cut off without warning.
Without anything.
⸻
Chloe drove the rest of the way to the hospital with shaking hands and a heart made of shattered glass.
The ambulance was already wheeling into the ER lot when she screeched into a crooked parking space behind it.
She sprinted out of the car without even slamming the door shut, her legs barely holding her weight.
She didn’t look back.
She couldn’t.
She was already breaking too fast.
- Writer
