Billy drives, sirens blaring, I work on Edward and am so focused on my patient; I almost forget she’s there until she speaks.
“Is it his heart?”
“Looks like it,” I answer honestly before asking a question of my own. “Are you related?” I cast a quick glance over my shoulder to see her shaking her head.
“Neighbor. He’s alone, as far as I know.”
She cares for him, though, that much is visible.
“I see. Do you know if he has a history of cardiac issues?”
“I know he has arthritis, but he never said anything about heart problems,” she admits. “Oh, wait.” She suddenly starts digging through the large tote she has slung across her body. “I grabbed his wallet off the kitchen counter,” she explains. “I thought you might need his information.”
“Hang on to it,” I suggest. “You can sort through it with the nurse when we get to Mercy.”
“Okay.”
The rest of the drive is quiet, the only sounds in the rig are the sirens overhead, the beep of the portable heart monitor, and the soft hiss of the oxygen. Neither of us speaks until we pull into the ambulance bay at the hospital.
“I should’ve known something was wrong,” she softly says from behind me, her voice riddled with guilt.
“Don’t,” I tell her, reaching back to give her knee a squeeze. “Chances are, he may not have known himself. The early signs aren’t necessarily that clear-cut.”
When Billy pulls open the doors, we move fast, rushing the stretcher inside, with Annie jogging behind us. Melanie, one of the ER nurses, holds her back and I don’t see her again until we walk back out the doors of the emergency room.
“You go on ahead,” I tell Billy, spotting Annie sitting in the waiting area. “I’ll be right out.”
My partner shoots a glance at her and, with a smug grin on his face, walks outside.
“You okay?” I ask, walking up to her. I see she has her glasses pushed up on her head and is reading something on her phone.
“I’m okay. How is he?”
She drops the phone on the bag beside her and gets to her feet. It’s the first time I see her without her glasses. I notice the thick fringe of eyelashes framing her large eyes first, but something looks off. I realize what when she blinks her eyes and I spot the bottom edge of a contact lens sliding back in place. Now why would someone wear contacts and glasses at the same time?
“He’s in good hands and they’re still conducting tests. Did you sign in with Melanie?”
“The nurse? Yes, I did, but I don’t know how much they’ll tell me since I’m not family.”
“Why don’t I drop you off at home? You can leave your number for her to call.”
She shakes her head firmly. “No, I’m staying until I know he’s going to be okay.”
It’s clear from her tone she won’t budge on that. I’m two-thirds through my shift so I can’t offer to stay and keep her company. I reluctantly leave her in the waiting room, have a quick word with Melanie—who promises to update Annie—and get back to my rig.
My shift moves fairly fast after that and at seven the next morning, I grab my bag and head to my truck. I’m halfway home when I change my mind and pass by my cutoff.
I find her curled up in the same chair, her head on her knees, asleep.
5
Annie
“Hey.”
My head shoots up when Sumo takes a seat beside me. I need a second to get my bearings and rub at my eyes. Those damn contacts are stuck to my eyeballs.
“What are you doing here?”
My voice is sleepy and I quickly wipe at my mouth, hoping I wasn’t drooling.
“I wasn’t sure if you’d still be here. Why didn’t you go home?”
He sounds kind and concerned, which almost makes me want to cry. I’m tired, I’m worried, and my joints are loudly protesting the hard plastic seat I spent the night on.
“They didn’t tell me until around four they were moving him to the ICU. I thought I’d wait for a little to see if I’d be able to visit him. I must’ve fallen asleep.” I try to stifle a yawn.
He puts his hand on my knee. “Why don’t I go see what’s going on?”
I watch as he walks over to the nurses’ station for a chat. I quickly dig through my bag for a mint, hoping it’ll do the trick until I can get to a toothbrush.
He doesn’t have to say anything;