Skip please. will re-edit
1824 Words
Elyse closed Zorah's door quietly.
She stood outside for a few seconds.
She could still hear her daughter's soft breathing.
She took a deep breath.
Then she walked to her room.
She closed the door.
She sat on the edge of the bed.
For a few seconds, she just stared at the wall.
Then she picked up her phone.
She opened her browser.
Her fingers shook as she typed.
Irregular heartbeat in children.
She pressed search.
The first result came up.
Elyse started reading.
Her face changed.
She scrolled.
Then she searched again.
Heart problems in children.
She read another page.
Then another.
Her breathing became faster.
“No…”
She scrolled again.
“This can't be.”
She searched again.
Child vomiting and irregular heartbeat.
Her eyes moved quickly across the screen.
Her heart dropped.
“No. No, no, no…”
She threw the phone onto the bed.
Then picked it up again.
She kept reading.
The more she read, the worse she felt.
There were so many possibilities.
Some were simple.
Others were not.
She knew that.
She was a doctor.
That was the problem.
She knew too much.
She knew what some of those words meant.
She knew what doctors checked for.
She knew what a heart problem could mean.
Her eyes filled with tears.
“Please…”
She wiped her face.
“Please don't let it be that.”
She searched again.
Can children live normal lives with heart problems?
She read.
Then searched again.
Serious heart conditions in children.
Her hands began shaking.
“Stop.”
She whispered.
“Just stop.”
But she couldn't.
She kept scrolling.
Her eyes landed on another sentence.
Her heart skipped.
“No…”
She quickly locked the phone.
She couldn't breathe properly.
She placed a hand over her chest.
“Calm down.”
She took a breath.
“Calm down, Elyse.”
Another breath.
“It's not confirmed.”
She nodded to herself.
“It's not confirmed.”
But her mind wouldn't listen.
She remembered Zorah at the park.
Running.
Laughing.
Eating ice cream.
Then throwing up.
She remembered the doctor listening to her chest.
The pause.
That look.
The words.
I hear something.
Elyse covered her mouth.
“What if she knew?”
A tear rolled down her cheek.
“What if I've been missing it?”
She looked at the phone.
Then at the door.
“She's my daughter.”
Her voice broke.
“How did I not know?”
The door opened.
Elyse quickly wiped her face.
Mama Ruth stepped inside.
“Elyse?”
Elyse looked up.
“What?”
Mama Ruth frowned.
“Why are you still awake?”
“I'm fine.”
Mama Ruth looked at the phone.
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing.”
“Elyse.”
“I'm just checking something.”
Mama Ruth walked closer.
She picked up the phone.
Her eyes widened.
“You're researching heart problems?”
Elyse looked away.
“I just wanted to know.”
“No.”
“Mama Ruth—”
“No.”
She put the phone down.
“Stop.”
“I need to know what could be wrong.”
“You don't know that anything is wrong.”
“The doctor heard something.”
“Yes.”
“And she wants a specialist.”
“Yes.”
“Then I need to know what we're dealing with.”
“No, you don't.”
Elyse looked at her.
“I'm a doctor.”
“I know.”
“So you know I can't just sit here.”
“You can.”
“What if it's serious?”
“Then the specialist will tell you.”
“What if we wait too long?”
“We're not waiting too long.”
“What if—”
“Elyse!”
Elyse went quiet.
Mama Ruth sat beside her.
“You're worrying yourself sick.”
Elyse looked down.
“I can't help it.”
“Yes, you can.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
Mama Ruth took her hands.
“Listen to me.”
Elyse looked at her.
“Zorah is a smart girl.”
“I know.”
“She watches you.”
“I know.”
“If you keep walking around looking scared, she'll know something is wrong.”
Elyse's lips trembled.
“I know.”
“She'll start worrying too.”
Elyse lowered her head.
“I know…”
A tear fell.
Mama Ruth pulled her closer.
“Stop doing this to yourself.”
Elyse shook her head.
“I can't.”
“You can.”
“I can't!”
Her voice broke.
Mama Ruth held her tighter.
Elyse started crying.
“Why is this happening now?”
Mama Ruth rubbed her back.
“Elyse…”
“Why now?”
She wiped her tears.
“Everything was already going wrong.”
“I know.”
“The hospital.”
“I know.”
“The complaints.”
“I know.”
“And now my baby…”
Her voice broke again.
Mama Ruth hugged her.
“Don't say that.”
“What if…”
Elyse couldn't finish.
She shook her head.
“What if my baby girl is really that sick?”
Mama Ruth held her tighter.
“She isn't.”
“But we don't know!”
“We don't.”
“What if the specialist says something bad?”
“Then we handle it.”
“What if—”
“I said we will handle it.”
Elyse cried harder.
“I can't lose her.”
Mama Ruth's eyes softened.
“You won't.”
“I can't.”
“You won't.”
“She is all I have.”
“And she has you.”
Elyse covered her face.
“I should have known.”
“No.”
“I should have noticed.”
“No.”
“I’m her mother.”
“And you've been taking care of her.”
“But I'm a doctor!”
“You're still human.”
Elyse lowered her hands.
Mama Ruth looked straight into her eyes.
“You're a mother first.”
Elyse cried quietly.
“I feel like I failed her.”
“You didn't.”
“What if I did?”
“You didn't.”
“What if this has been happening for years?”
“We don't know that.”
“What if she was trying to tell me?”
“You took care of every complaint she had.”
“What if I thought it was nothing?”
“Because sometimes it is nothing.”
Elyse looked at her.
Mama Ruth squeezed her hands.
“You can't punish yourself for not knowing something nobody had told you.”
Elyse took a shaky breath.
“But I'm scared.”
“I know.”
“I'm so scared.”
“I know.”
Mama Ruth stood.
“Wait here.”
“Where are you going?”
“I'll be back.”
She left the room.
Elyse wiped her face.
She looked at her phone again.
Her fingers moved toward it.
She stopped.
“No.”
She pulled her hand back.
Mama Ruth returned with a glass.
“Drink.”
“What is it?”
“Milk.”
“I don't want it.”
“Drink.”
“Mama Ruth…”
“Drink.”
Elyse sighed.
She took the glass.
“Good girl.”
Elyse took a sip.
Mama Ruth watched her.
“Another.”
Elyse drank again.
“Enough?”
“No.”
Elyse gave her a tired look.
“Seriously?”
“Yes.”
Elyse drank a little more.
Mama Ruth nodded.
“Good.”
Elyse put the glass down.
Mama Ruth sat beside her.
“You need to sleep.”
“I can't.”
“You can.”
“My mind won't stop.”
“Then stop feeding it.”
Elyse looked at her.
“What do you mean?”
“Stop searching.”
Elyse looked away.
“I wasn't…”
“Elyse.”
“Okay.”
“Promise me.”
“I promise.”
“No more searching tonight.”
“Okay.”
“No more reading scary things.”
“Okay.”
“No more thinking about every possible disease.”
Elyse sighed.
“Okay.”
Mama Ruth smiled.
“Good.”
Elyse looked at her.
“You really think she'll be fine?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know?”
“I don't.”
Elyse stared at her.
“Then why are you saying it?”
“Because right now, you need hope.”
Elyse's eyes filled again.
Mama Ruth held her hand.
“And I have something else.”
“What?”
“I have a friend.”
“A friend?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“A specialist.”
Elyse sat up.
“What kind?”
“Heart specialist.”
Elyse stared at her.
“You know one?”
“Yes.”
“Is she good?”
“Very.”
“Her?”
“Yes.”
“Can she see Zorah?”
“I'll call her tomorrow.”
Elyse swallowed.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Will she be able to see her quickly?”
“I'll make sure.”
Elyse nodded.
“Okay.”
“You don't need to sit here tonight worrying about what you don't know.”
Elyse wiped her face.
“Okay.”
“You have someone to call tomorrow.”
“Yes.”
“So tonight?”
“Sleep.”
“Exactly.”
Elyse smiled weakly.
“You sound like Zorah.”
Mama Ruth laughed.
“Maybe because you're both stubborn.”
Elyse smiled.
“I am not stubborn.”
“You've been searching for an hour.”
Elyse laughed through her tears.
“Okay.”
“Now lie down.”
Elyse moved under the blanket.
Mama Ruth pulled it over her.
“Close your eyes.”
Elyse obeyed.
Mama Ruth reached for the phone.
“I'll keep this.”
Elyse opened her eyes.
“Mama Ruth!”
“No.”
“Give it back.”
“No.”
“I need it.”
“You need sleep.”
Elyse sighed.
“Fine.”
Mama Ruth placed the phone on the table far from her.
“Tomorrow, we call my friend.”
Elyse nodded.
“And we get answers.”
“Yes.”
“And until then?”
Elyse took a breath.
“I won't worry.”
Mama Ruth raised an eyebrow.
Elyse smiled.
“I'll try not to worry.”
“Better.”
She kissed Elyse's forehead.
“Sleep.”
“Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
Mama Ruth turned off the light.
Elyse closed her eyes.
But even in the darkness, one thought stayed with her.
Please let my baby be okay.
And this time, she didn't reach for her phone.
She simply held her blanket tightly and prayed for morning.
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD