I hold his gaze for a long moment before getting up. I take his hand and follow the nurse with them into her room.
She’s hooked up to the typical machines that watch her vitals, along with an IV giving her fluids. She’s calm. Peaceful. Looks like she’s sleeping.
Cammy goes right to her side, kissing her forehead and taking her hand to kiss that too.
“We’re here, Chrissy,” she says.
Cassius does the same, going up to her to whisper to her and let her know they’re there. I stand back, wanting to be a silent support, wishing there was something I could do to help this little girl. She just turned fifteen… they’re just getting their life off the ground. This can’t possibly ruin that. She can’t have damage from this.
Though, unfortunately, I know she can. It’s likely, actually.
A knock on the door pulls our attention. It’s a nurse coming in with a small cart.
“Hi, I’m Jenny. I’m going to get some blood work.”
She taps some things on her computer, scans Chrissy’s bracelet, and takes a few vials of blood.
“Hope you feel better, Chrissy,” the nurse says, giving us a sympathetic smile as she leaves the room.
“How long do you think she’ll be sleeping for?” Cammy asks.
“I don’t know. Remember last time? She slept for hours.”
“The seizure wasn’t that long last time.”
“Yeah, so she may sleep more. She needs it, Cam. And we have to do our best to hope she wakes up just fine.”
“If she doesn’t—”
“Cammy—”
“No, I need to say this, Cassius. Let me say it,” she says, her voice shaking. “If she doesn’t wake up the way she was, we will handle it, okay? We can’t go off the deep end. We will do whatever it takes to make her comfortable and take care of her ourselves.”
“Obviously, Cammy.”
“I’m just saying,” she snaps, bringing her attention back to Chrissy.
There are two chairs not far from them, and I bring them closer.
“Here, take a seat. Get comfortable.”
“Thank you,” Cammy says, sitting down and still holding Chrissy’s hand.
“I need to get some water,” Cassius mutters.
“I can get it for you,” I offer.
“I need the walk.” He leaves the room, not letting me arguefurther.
“He pulls away when he’s stressed out,” Cammy says, her eyes still on her sister.
“I can see that.”
“It’s how he found you.”
“How he found me?” I question.
“When you met at the club? He was off at a bar trying to drink his stress away. Some guy he knows there told him to go to the club.”