He jumps in behind me, lifting my foot onto his lap. The male EMT points to a box on the floor and throws the ambulance into drive. Cosmos bandages my bare feet and talks with the EMT about things I don’t understand. I’m vaguely aware of Cosmos calling ahead to the hospital. I think he might be talking with Dr. Newberry, but I can’t make sense of anything. All I can think about is Mom.
“She’s alive, Hazel.” Cosmos pulls me closer on the bench seat. “She’s going to be alright.”
The ride to the hospital is seconds and years. It shrinks and stretches like those melting clocks in Dali paintings. It goes by in a quick blur, but we don’t get there fast enough.
“Can’t you go faster?” I plead.
When the ambulance pulls up in front of the hospital, Cosmos tilts my chin. “Look at me, Hazel. We need to talk.”
I look at him. Nothing happens. Again. Cosmos’ mouth falls open, and tears stream down my cheeks. It wasn’t just an anomaly. We’re broken. We really, truly can’t stop time anymore.
Cosmos pulls back, studying me with an expression I’ve never seen. His eyes are wide, brows wrinkled. My own panic is dull and distant, like it belongs to someone else. I don’t know what this means, but I can’t deal with it now. All I care about is Mom. She needs me.
“It’ll be alright,” Cosmos whispers. “We’ll talk. Later.”
I swivel away and jump out of the cab, rushing around the back just as the door is yanked open and everything erupts into chaos. The EMT barks orders. They pull Mom’s stretcher out and pop the wheels. I scramble trying to keep hold of her hand. They’re moving too fast, rushing her through the sliding double doors and directly past the intake desk. Cosmos, with his long legs, keeps pace with them. But my body won’t keep up. My muscles are concrete, heavy and brittle. Slow.
A nurse steps in front of me. Blocking my path. “You the family?”
“Y-yes.” My voice doesn’t sound like my own. They’re getting away. Taking Mom away. Surrounded by doctors and nurses. I can’t even see her. I want to scream at the nurse to let me pass. Let me follow. But she takes my elbow. Her touch is gentle, but firm.
“I’ll show you where you can wait.” She directs me down a different hallway. Away from Mom.
She asks some questions from a form attached to a clipboard while we walk. I do my best to answer, but it’s hard to focus. When we reach the waiting room, it’s empty. The sky outside the window softens with the first touch of the sunrise, and I want to scream at it to stop. How dare the world keep spinning!Stop!
“Do you have her insurance card?” The nurse’s question is like a sonic boom. Like the world answering my command with a manic laugh. Not only does it continue spinning, it continues demandingthings of me, reminding me how ill-prepared I am. I don’t have the insurance card. I don’t have my purse. I don’t even have my phone. Or a romance novel to distract me. Or any family to wait with me. I have nothing.
“It’s okay, sweetie. We’ll figure it out.” She pats my shoulder maternally. Then, she leaves.
I sink down onto a pale blue chair. Alone.
Chapter Thirty-Four
This isn’t like Mom’s last surgery. There’s no panic. No tears. No distractions. I just stare at the brightening window. Numb.
I don’t know whether minutes pass or hours. Eventually, Julia sits down next to me. She says something, asks me a question, I think. But I can’t answer. I just keep seeing Mom’s pale face on the stretcher. Hearing the glass shatter as she dropped to the kitchen floor.
I think Julia rubs my back. I think she hums a song. I don’t know. Everything feels like it’s happening to someone else. Far away.
Then, Cosmos appears.
I snap to attention, jumping to my feet. “Is she out?”
“No, Haz?—”
“What are you doing here, then? Get back in there.”
He ignores my command and keeps walking toward me. Something about his movement reminds me of someone approaching a wild animal. That’s when I register that he’s in his jeans and t-shirt, not scrubs. “Why aren’t you with her?”
“I had to remove myself from your mom’s team.”
I understand all the words he just said, but they don’t make sense. “But she needs you.”
“You need me, Hazel.” He reaches for my hand, but I pull away. I don’t want to be touched right now. I already feel trapped and helpless.
“Right, I need you to be there.” I point at the door he came through. “To make sure everything’s okay, that she’s going to be alright.”
His face looks pained. “She needs an objective team, able to perform surgery without judgement clouded by emotion.”
