CHAPTER Twenty:

   The rain was beginning to slow as the group gathered at the edge of the field. It had once been a hayfield but was abandoned long ago. It sloped down a gentle hill, with rocks dotting it and scrubby grass growing

   “Nothing at the neighbour’s,” Riley said.

   “Anything in the woods?” Lauren asked Grant.

   He shook his head grimly.

   “Well, let’s scout this out once more.” Lauren pointed down. “There’s a stream running through it, it’s not super deep, but it might have stopped her if she came this way.”

   The others nodded, and they climbed over the fence and spread out. Lauren noticed Charlotte shaking like a leaf. Was it because she cared about her daughter, or because she cared about the consequences?

   Riley looked exhausted, her shoulders were slouched beneath her purple raincoat. Lauren looked the same way, except she hadn’t stopped to get a coat.

   “Let’s hope she’s here,” Grant said. “If not, I’m calling my dad. We’ll get a search party out.”

   Charlotte’s pace was slowing, and she pulled off her scuffed heels. They were impractical, especially when wandering through muddy fields.

   Lauren shone her flashlight ahead into the fog. She could hear water running. She ran ahead of the others, spurred on by the thought of finding Willow.

   The beam of light landed on a pink tutu. It was muddy and soaked. Willow was there, curled up on the bank next to the stream. Eyes closed.

   Lauren’s heart lurched with fear. “Willow!” She pressed a hand to her cheek.

   The little girl’s eyes flickered open Lauren scooped her up in her arms. The flashlight arched wildly as she did so, and in the distance, she thought she saw movement. A creature running away? She wasn’t sure, but a shiver ran down her spine either way.

   Charlotte caught up to the two and shouted with joy. “We found her!” She stroked Willow’s forehead.

   Lauren tried to take a step, but her knees almost buckled. Grant ran up beside her and took Willow from her arms. 

   They headed back towards the house. Riley stayed behind with Lauren, both taking a moment to rest. Then they supported each other as they followed the others. 

   “Do you think she’ll be alright?” Lauren asked.
   “We should get her to a doctor just in case.” Riley sounded worried. “She’s not looking good.”

 

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   Lauren’s brown eyes opened, and she was blinded by bright lights. Where am I, she wondered. The room slowly came into focus.

   There were two chairs next to her, in one, Riley was asleep, her head leading back against the blue curtain that sectioned off the bed. Grant sat in the other, leaning forward and resting his chin on his fists. His thumbs twiddled in worry.

   Lauren’s neck ached as she sat up and groaned.

   Grant looked up and jumped out of his chair, which teetered at the sudden movement. Riley began to stir too.

   “You’re awake.” Grant came to the side of the bed.

   That was evident, and Lauren was frustrated at the lack of more explanation. She looked down and realized she was in a hospital bed, which explained the scent of bleach and sterilizer.

   “What?” She grimaced and swung her feet over the edge of the bed. “What’s going on? Where’s Willow?”

   Riley raised her eyebrows. “Well, you’re certainly back to your normal self.”

   “You had a fever when we got here – no wonder, running around in the rain, getting soaking wet and frozen..” Grant fussed at her. “You fainted dead away when we got here, and a nurse moved you in here to rest. Willow’s in with the doctor.”

   Lauren pushed her blanket off, and an ugly blue hospital gown met her eyes. Had that really been necessary? It was as baggy as a grain sack and barely reached her knees. 

   “Where’s my stuff? My clothes?” She frowned. “I need to go see Willow.”

   She stood and a wave of dizziness hit her, then passed. The rubber boots were next to the bed, someone had wiped them off. She pulled them on and crossed her arms. 

   Riley and Grant were both smiling at her, but trying not to show it. Lauren did look rather ridiculous. She glared at them.

   The door squeaked open, and a nurse in plain grey scrubs stepped in.

   “You’re up. Good, we were starting to worry.” She handed over a stack of clothes.    “Brought these back for you, in case you want to change.”

   They were dry and warm.

   “Thank you,” she sent the woman a smile. “Finally, someone useful.”

   The nurse ushered everyone else out of the room then stepped out and closed the curtain behind her.

   When Lauren was sure she was alone, she changed as fast as she could, nearly tripping over her pant legs and pulling a muscle in her arm as she fussed with her shirt. 

   Her stomach grumbled, but she ignored it and pushed open the curtain. Riley and Grant were waiting in the hall.

   “I don’t know, the gown might’ve looked better on you,” Riley said. 

   Lauren rolled her eyes and followed the two as they walked through a maze of hallways. They found themselves in front of a door.

   “My dad called, I’m supposed to be taking the next shift at the station.” Regret was evident on Grant’s face. “But I told him I’m going to stay until we at least hear something from the doctor. Is there anything else I can do?”

   “You’ve done more than enough,” Lauren said, taking an offered hair elastic from Riley and pulling her hair back in a messy bun. “If you could check on Wes? I’m not sure how long we’ll be here.”

   “Of course. I’ll take him home with me.” Grant nodded.

   Lauren reached for the doorknob, but the door swung open before she could push on it. A doctor stepped out, tucking a pen into the pocket of his white coat. Charlotte followed on his heels.

   “Well.” His face was grave.

   “How is she?” Lauren asked. “I hope it’s nothing too serious? Just fatigue and she needs to warm up?”

   The doctor looked at Charlotte, then back at Lauren. Her patience was growing short as he rubbed his forehead and cleared his throat.

   “The good news.” He looked down at the chart he was holding. “Willow does not have hypothermia.”

   Lauren took a deep breath and nodded. 

   “The bad news,” he shook his head before continuing, “we are still waiting for blood test results, so I cannot confirm this for certain. We suspect that Willow may have developed pneumonia sometime in the past few weeks. The incident tonight has only exacerbated it. We are concerned about her fever, and the low oxygen levels in her blood.”

   The room seemed to spin, and Lauren felt her heartbeat racing. She couldn’t live the same nightmare twice.

   She’d heard the same news from a doctor before, maybe in this very same hall. He’d said pneumonia was common for those near their death bed. A final illness.

Lauren couldn’t faint again. She rested a hand against the wall and focused on breathing. Her grandparents were gone, but not Willow, not yet.

   “Are you all right?” The doctor looked concerned. 

   “I’m fine.” She pressed a hand to her forehead. 

   The doctor cleared his throat and excused himself, then walked down the hallway. Once he was gone, Lauren pushed into Willow’s room. She had to see her, to be reassured that she was strong.

   Willow was fast asleep on the bed, and her breathing held a slight rattle. Her skin was ashy, and she looked tiny against the bed frame. 

   Lauren froze and stared at the vulnerable picture. 

   “She’ll pull through. She has to.” Charlotte came up behind her and whispered the comforting words.

   Lauren felt a lump in her throat. She sunk into a chair in the corner of the room and covered her eyes with her hands.

   “It’s just like them. All over again.”

   Guilt plagued her. If she’d been watching Willow, if she’d been more careful, the girl wouldn’t have run away. But no, she had to have a shouting match. If only she’d held her tongue and listened, like everyone had told her to, Willow would be at home, lying in a warm bed, having sweet dreams.

   “She’s going to be okay.” Charlotte sat down next to her and took her hand.

   Lauren tensed at the foreign gesture. She hadn’t thought Charlotte capable of kindness. 

   “I shouldn’t have been so harsh earlier.” Her voice barely sounded like her own.

   “What you said was true, and exactly what I needed to hear.” Charlotte looked across the room. “You reminded me of what’s important in my life. I don’t expect you to forgive me, not when I’ve behaved as I have. Will you give me a chance to redeem myself?” Her blue eyes glistened with tears.

   Lauren didn’t know what to make of the woman before her, but she nodded.

   “If you’ll give me a minute,” Charlotte said, moving quietly to the door.

   It closed behind her with a click, leaving Lauren in silence. The only sound in the room was the eerie beeping of the heart monitor. 

   So much had changed in the past few hours. Lauren found it hard to believe that so recently Grant had been teaching Willow to blow bubbles. She’d seemed fine then. Lauren’s breath caught, and a tear dripped onto her lap. 

   “God, Willow needs your healing hand,” she prayed. “And if this is a new beginning, I need your grace, strength to accept it, whatever it is.”

   The fear didn’t completely subside, but Lauren felt a peace beginning to wash over her. She realized that shouting all those long planned phrases at Charlotte hadn’t freed her. But now that she’d promised to give her a chance, she was starting to feel free.

   Lauren wiped at her eyes and looked up at Willow. Had the little girl been listening? No doubt she’d heard the yelling, even from in her room. This had been her first experience having some sort of family. Lauren wondered what it had taught her. Forgiveness or bitterness?

 

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   The smell of bleach and blood wafted through the white halls. It was a potent scent that was impossible to get away from. Charlotte sat in the waiting room, resting her head against the wall and wishing she could escape the migraine that had been plaguing her since they arrived.

   Seeing Willow, so small in that hospital bed nearly killed her. Especially since she was so helpless. What could she do? Nothing but wait. She wondered if this was how Lauren had felt when she was watching her parents die.

   Lauren was in Willow’s room, she hadn’t budged from the bedside. It was clear that she was feeling guilty, and Charlotte knew what that was like. But the guilt was entirely her own, and had nothing to do with Lauren.

   No one could rest. Charlotte, nor Lauren. They were all going to fade away waiting, but there was nothing to do about it.

   Riley stayed, though no one was quite sure why. Dark circles lurked beneath her eyes. From what Charlotte gathered, she was rather new in town. But she was proving a loyal friend. 

   Nurses wheeled carts up and down the hallways, in a never-ending frenzy of activity. People moved in and out of waiting rooms. Once, an ambulance had screamed outside the walls, and a stretcher was rushed in. A blur of oxygen masks and adrenalin.

   People coughed, wore bandages and limped as they walked. Every once in a while, Charlotte noticed nurses whispering together as they looked towards Willow’s room. When they caught her watching, they’d give her a sympathetic glance before hurrying out of sight. It was not a good sign.

   The doctor drew Charlotte out of her reverie. “Mrs. Quinley?” His white coat swished around him.

   Charlotte shot to her feet.

   “Things are not looking good,” he said. “Please understand that we are doing our best, giving your daughter multiple treatments in the hope she’ll respond. But under the circumstances, I would advise you not to get your hopes up.”

   Charlotte stared at him with wide eyes, unable to choke out any words. He seemed to understand, ducking his head and walking away.

   The room was stifling, scratching at her from all directions. She propelled herself forward, breaking into a run as she followed the signs to the washroom. Reaching the door, she pushed herself inside and locked it behind her.

   Fluorescent lights buzzed, and indistinct chatter sounded outside as a team of nurses passed by. Charlotte’s face was pale and gaunt. She couldn’t stand to see the guilt that stared back at her from the depths of her eyes.

   Willow was dying. It’s all my fault, I left her all alone. Charlotte wondered if her daughter even knew how much she cared for her. Why hadn’t she told her? Why hadn’t she shown her?

   She stifled a scream that was trying to escape. It was all so unfair. Charlotte wished she could switch places. Her fists balled and she slammed them against the counter, over and over.

   Dull pain shot through them, and she stopped. A shriek sounded in her ears, and she realized it was her own.

   “Willow, Willow,” she moaned, sliding to the cold floor and tucking her hands around her knees. 

   She was too young to... The thought was terrifying. The word was so small but so final. It wouldn’t leave Charlotte’s mind, a ghostly echo that constantly nagged.

   “If someone is up there.” She spoke through sobs. “Do something. Not for me. I don’t deserve any favours. But she does.”