Total pages in book: 296
Estimated words: 284055 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1420(@200wpm)___ 1136(@250wpm)___ 947(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 284055 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1420(@200wpm)___ 1136(@250wpm)___ 947(@300wpm)
“Until we locate the source of infection, we’ll keep her on oxygen and monitor her stats,” he tells us. “The nurse will move her to another floor in a bit.”
“Thanks, Dr. Potter,” my mother murmurs.
The bare hospital walls, the cold air, the cream-colored floors—they’re all I’ve seen the last three years. Rylie got sick over two years ago, and we were in the ER at least once a week until she was officially diagnosed and they started chemo treatment.
“I’m going to call your dad,” she tells me before standing up and leaving. I can see the distress and exhaustion all over her features. Mom quit her job and has been Rylie’s caretaker since the beginning. She and Dad never go out anymore—at least not with each other—and if they aren’t fighting about bills, they’re fighting about his long hours at the office. I’ve overheard some of their conversations and sometimes wonder if Dad wishes he could leave us and find another family. Mom’s accused him of cheating, and though he never denies it, he just tells her she’s crazy.
The tension is thick when things are rough like this. Before Rylie’s diagnosis, they both worked full-time but always made sure to be home in time for dinner so we could eat as a family. We’d talk to Mom about our day, and Dad would ask about homework. It was predictable, but it was nice.
How easy it is to take life for granted until it throws a curve ball and changes the entire course of it.
I hate seeing Rylie like this. She doesn’t deserve this, and I’m often angry that she’s the one having to go through it and not me. I’d take her place in a heartbeat. She was only seven, and though she annoyed me on a daily basis, I loved her so much. Mom used to tell me stories of how I’d beg them for a baby sister, and when they got pregnant, I was so excited. Growing up together wasn’t always rainbows and sunshine, but I knew I was lucky to have her in my life.
I press the back of my hand to her cheek and feel how cold it is, even with a low-grade fever. These hospitals are always cold, and I hate it. Doing what I always do when Mom isn’t around, I crawl onto the bed next to her. I’m always careful of her lines, but then, at least, I can give her some of my body heat and comfort her.
“Let me know if I’m hurting you, okay, Riles?” Even though my voice is just above a whisper, when she squeezes my hand back again, I know she heard me.
I rest my chin on top of her head and hold her close to me before closing my eyes and sending another prayer up. “Love you, baby sis.”
A nurse comes in an hour later to move her to another floor.
Once she’s settled, Mom tells me Dad is coming to pick me up soon.
“Why can’t I stay here?”
“You need to eat some dinner and finish your homework,” she says with little emotion.
“‘I’m not leaving!” I shout. “I’m staying with Rylie.”
Dad arrives twenty minutes later, ordering me to come home with him for the night.
“I’ll bring you back tomorrow. Let’s go. Now.”
I kiss Rylie’s cheek and squeeze her hand three times. When she squeezes mine back, I smile and promise her I’ll be back as soon as I can. When Rylie is kept overnight, Mom always stays, but Dad never does.
The next morning, I call Mom before school, and she says she doesn’t have any updates yet. I make her promise to call the school if anything changes so I can know right away, and even though she agrees, something in my gut tells me otherwise.
After not hearing any word from Mom all day, Dad picks me up and drives us straight to the hospital. He’s eerily quiet during the ride over. That could mean anything since he’s not much of a talker anyway, but something isn’t settling right in the air.
“What is it, Dad?” I finally ask as he searches for a parking spot in the hospital garage.
“Nothing, River.”
I narrow my eyes at him, wondering why he’s lying. As soon as he parks, I jump out of the car and run the entire way up to Rylie’s room. Doctors and nurses swarm in and out, all holding charts and double checking her monitors.
“Mom, what’s wrong?” I pant, catching my breath.
She’s wearing her sunglasses again, but I know she’s choking up before she even speaks. “She’s septic.” Her words barely leave her mouth before one of the monitor alarms starts going off. It’s her heart monitor. The doctors have talked about sepsis previously during other visits, so I know it’s a life-threatening complication of an infection.
“She’s flatlining!” a nurse calls out, and they all rush around.