I can do this. Just go in, check her, and get out. Hopefully, she won’t want a bath or her linens changed. I knock on the door three times, drop my hand to my side, and that’s when I feel just how badly my body is shaking in anticipation.
“Go away,” Alyssa croaks weakly. I ignore her request and walk in, closing the door behind me. There’s a sheet hanging from the ceiling, which I assume is for her privacy, but it blocks my view of her and, for a moment, I’m thankful.
“Alyssa?” She doesn’t answer me and the fear of the unknown seeps into my bones. My palms sweat and my heart thumps with anxiety, so I stay behind the curtain. “I’m Lexi.” Still nothing. I bite my lip. “The nurses asked me to come check on you and see if there’s anything I could do for you.”
Please don’t die on me. Please don’t die. I clench my eyes shut, grab the sheet, and move it to the side. I exhale, pushing out all the fear that’s trapped in my chest, then open my eyes and look at her.
I gasp.
Alyssa’s eyes snap open. She gives me a blank stare and makes no attempt to talk as she turns her head toward the window. Her skin’s so thin it’s almost transparent, and her dry, cracked lips are the faintest shade of pink. She has crystal-blue eyes that contrast the dark circles underneath them, and her dirty-blond hair lies in silky threads across her makeshift pillow. Enclosed around her neck is a yellow brand for greed.
She glares at me. Her body trembles as her fragile finger points toward the door. “Get out. Now. Leave me alone.” She pulls the cover over her head.
I can’t believe it. Alyssa’s just a child.
She lies in a bed that swallows her whole and she curls up with a thin white blanket. Her head rests on a rolled-up towel and her eyes remain closed. I’m unable to look away, but out of the corner of my eye, I spot the folding chair across from her bed. I tiptoe over to it, slide down, and as soon as I sit, the darn thing makes an awful squeaky sound. I jerk forward. I feel light-headed as reality settles in, and I feel my insides squirm in panic. My eyes blur with heartbreak. I close them, and after a moment, the sensation fades, and I glance her way one last time.
I bolt from the room and close the door behind me before sliding down the wall, pulling my knees to my chest in exasperation. It’s not the kind of patient you want to take care of—ever. What hell this girl must be going through, knowing she’s going to die alone, just like the lady down the hall. Pain squeezes my chest tight.
The dark room envelops me. When I look up, he stands at the foot of the bed. His face is hard and cold. I try to scream, but nothing comes out. Knowing I can’t call for help, he sits next to me. His hot breath overpowers my sense of smell, and the callouses of his hands scratch my skin as he touches my arms. I cringe, but his arms wrap me up like a small child. I tense up and wait—the unknown, always the unknown. I don’t want to die, but at the same time, I wish I were dead.
“Lexi, can you hear me?”
I open my eyes and Sutton hovers over me with a worried expression. He reaches around my shoulders and helps me up. “You’re drenched with sweat. Are you all right?” He glances around for a nurse. “Amber, please grab my stethoscope and blood pressure cuff. At the nurse’s station.” The auburn-haired nurse Cole often talks to grabs his things and hands them over with a sour face. “Did you eat anything today? It could be your blood sugar—”
“I’m fine. Trust me. I get these dizzy spells occasionally and sort of check out for a while, but I always come around.” I pinch the bridge of my nose as I try to focus. “Please just let it go.”
His expression softens as he kneels in front of me. “I can’t let it go. I’m a doctor, remember?” He pushes his hair off his forehead. “I’ll find a way to make them stop.”
I know he can’t, but I’m not going to explain that to him, so I quickly change the subject. “Why can’t you help her?” I ask, pointing to Alyssa’s room.
He furrows his brow and releases a long, deep sigh as if reaching for an explanation. “She has an incurable virus. I have scientists working on finding the cure as we speak, but they’re nowhere close to finding one. I’ve already allocated too much pain medication. There’s not much else I can do.” He pauses to wipe his forehead with his hand. “How do you tell a thirteen-year-old she’s going to die? How do you tell her there’s nothing you can do to save her life?” He balls his hands into fists and then relaxes them like he’s releasing his pain. “I hate failing, and I’m failing her in every way possible.”
My heart breaks for him. I see the pain in his eyes when he speaks about her and wish there was something I could do to make it all go away. I know what it feels like to be a failure. It haunts you constantly.
“Can I get it?” I ask.
“No.” He shakes his head and gives me a distant look.
“Then how did she get it?”
“Look, you can’t get it, all right? So try not to worry about it.”
“Okay. Doesn’t she have family?”
“We’re all she’s got.” He leans against the door.