We don’t even know what’s happening with Hud. No doctor has spoken to us since we got here last night, and the silence is becoming unbearable.
The waiting room walls feel tighter every hour we don't hear anything. The bleach smell is lodged in the back of my throat, and the fluorescent lights burn behind my eyes.
Down on the street below, people keep moving. Laughing. Living their normal lives, while mine feels like it stopped on the riverbank.
I force myself to look away from the window and drag my eyes around the room.
Mrs. Nora hasn’t let go of Hudson’s dad in hours. Every once in a while, her shoulders start shaking again, and he just pulls her closer like he’s afraid she’ll fall apart completely if he loosens his grip.
Across the room, Hadley stares blankly at the floor while Ella talks beside her. I don’t even think Hadley hears a word of it.
She looks haunted, and I wonder if her actions lately are weighing her down.
I know mine are.
My hands rub my arms absently. The river still feels stuck to my skin even after the shower the hospital let us use in the physicians’ lounge. Mom brought us clean clothes hours ago, but neither time nor the hospital soap could wash away the memory of us dragging Hudson’s lifeless body out of the water.
I take a sip of the new coffee Mom pressed into my hands at some point and think about how Dad keeps telling us to hold onto hope. How his voice never cracks, never waivers.
I wish I knew how he does that.
Because hope feels impossible after watching the person you love disappear beneath dark water.
“Family of Hudson Daniels?”
My head snaps to the left at the sound of Hudson’s name. I’m on my feet in an instant, notebook still clutched to my chest. Chairs scrape loudly as everyone crowds around the older doctor.
My heart is hammering against my ribs, hands clammy as I stare at him, dreading what he has to say.
“I’m Dr. Mansley,” he announces, shaking hands quickly. “I’ve been overseeing Hudson’s care since he arrived.”
He exhales slowly, tired lines creasing the corner of his eyes. His expression is heavy as his gaze moves between all of us. “I wish I had better news,” he says gently. “Hudson fell about forty feet and hit the water with significant force. By the time he was pulled out, he’d been submerged for several minutes.”
Submerged.
The word punches through me all over again. The vision of Hudson facedown in the water as I frantically swam towards him burned into the back of my eyelids.
“His heart stopped on the way here, but the paramedics were able to revive him.” He pauses briefly, giving us time to absorb the news. “After he arrived at the hospital, his heart stopped again, and our team had to work to bring him back a second time.”
The room sways slightly beneath my feet.
“Once his heartbeat came back, he began seizing, which suggested brain swelling. Once he was stabilized, we took him for an MRI to confirm.”
Nobody says anything. The only sound is the hum from the air conditioning and Hadley’s uneven breathing beside me.
“The scan did confirm cerebral edema, and he’s had multiple seizures since. He’s currently on a ventilator and in a medically induced coma to aid the healing of his brain.”
All the air whooshes from my lungs, acrid vomit creeping up my throat. I brace myself on my knees, my eyes scrunched closed as I wait for the room to stop spinning.
“The good news is his heart rhythm is getting stronger by the hour. Aside from that, he has a dislocated shoulder, a number of abrasions and lacerations… and he’s showing early signs of DAP.”
“DAP?” Mrs. Daniels asks, her voice thin and shaking.
“Drowning-Associated Pneumonia,” Dr. Mansley explains. “It’s an infection that develops quite rapidly. We’ve started aggressive IV antibiotics to fight the bacteria in his lungs, but we’re hopeful since we caught it early. However, the next forty-eight hours are still critical. We will be on the lookout for delayed symptoms and illnesses.”
“When can we see him?” I ask before I can stop myself. I need to see him. Hold his hand. Tell him I love him, even if he can’t hear me.
“Are you family?”
