There was another brief pause, and then I heard a noise on the other end of the line. It sounded like a low croak.
“Hello?” I said, my heart in my throat. “Mom?”
The croak came again, and it took me several moments to realize that my mother had said hello. My throat went dry, my imagination running amok at the state she must be in.
“Mom,” I gasped, tears rising to my eyes. “Mom, that’s you, right?”
The croak came again, and I had to ask her to repeat whatever she’d said just to make out her response. “Yes, it’s me honey,” she managed, her voice finally coming out a touch clearer. “I’ll try to… talk a little… more clearly. It just… hurts… quite a lot… when I try to… speak.”
Gods.This was serious. The nurse had told me talking was painful for them, but I hadn’t imagined it to bethisbad.
I’d wanted to hear about the treatment from their own mouths, but now I could hardly justify holding them on the line for longer than a few seconds.
“Okay, Mom,” I said quickly, my voice thickening. “Listen, d-don’t talk. I just needed to hear your voice and know that you are…” I swallowed hard, fighting back the tears. “Alright.”
“Okay, baby,” she croaked back.
“I love you, Mom. I-I love you so much. And I’m… I’m going to do everything I can to get you better and out of that hospital, as soon as possible. Okay?”
I reallyhadto.
“Okay… sweetie,” she said, her voice morphing into that near unintelligible croak again.
“C-Can I speak to Dad now?”
There was another pause and then my father arrived on the line, his usually deep, rich voice all but unrecognizable.
“Hey… baby,” he rasped. He sounded like death.
“Dad,” I said, my own voice finally cracking. I could no longer hold in the tears. “I-I just wanted to hear your voice. You don’t have to talk any more than that. You don’t have to…” I pushed the phone away from my mouth as a sob escaped me.
“Tani?” I heard his faint voice through the speaker and I quickly pressed the phone back to my ear, not wanting him to waste a precious breath.
“Y-Yes, Dad. I just want you to know I love you. I love you more than anything. And I’m trying to get you out of there, okay? Just… Just hold on, okay?”Please.
There was a beat, in which I could’ve sworn that I heard my father’s own breath hitch. “Okay,” he croaked after a moment. “Take care… of yourself… and your sister. I… love you… too.”
The line went quiet again, giving me a moment to try to recompose myself, but I still felt like a broken mess when Emerson returned to the line.
“Ms. Lockwood?” she said.
I drew in a ragged breath, willing strength into my voice. “Yes. So, Emerson, I need to know exactly what you’re doing about this. You said their temperatures have risen. What exactly are you doing to combat that now? We can’t let them rise any further. And what are you going to try next to combat the swelling?”
She began rattling off a list of treatments… or maybe it was medication. I had no idea. Every single term she uttered may as well have come from another planet, to the point where I exhaled in frustration and interrupted, “Okay, thank you for explaining, but it’s all foreign to me. I don’t understand a word ofwhat you’re saying. I just… I just…” I trailed off, my throat constricting again.
I just need to know they’re going to be okay,was all I wanted to say. It was literally all I wanted in the world right now.
But of course, I knew Emerson couldn’t promise me that. Dora couldn’t, and neither could any of her colleagues.
So, I tried to suck in a deep breath and replied, “Okay, Emerson. Thanks for putting me through.”
I was about to hang up, when she added, “If you like, I can send a couple of photos through to your phone. I know it must be hard not being able to visit them, but via photos you can at least see their current state for yourself. I have your number, so I can transmit them once we end the call.”
I hesitated, a pit of dread opening in my stomach. A large part of me didn’t want to see them. Just wanted to wait until they were better again. Because, based on their voices, I feared how disturbing the visual would be.
But I didn’t want to bury my head in the sand either. It was always better to face the truth head on, no matter how painful. So, I steeled myself and replied, “Okay, thank you. Please do that.”
I ended the call, then waited several tense moments, unsure exactly how “photos” could be “transmitted” by her to my phone, but trusting Fairwell’s technology enough by now. When my phone beeped, two images of my parents’ faces flashed up on the screen. It was worse than I could have ever imagined.
