“Do you think she's cold?” she asked quietly, worry creeping into her voice.
“I had Hannah check earlier. Her monitors look fine," I lied.She wasn't fine."I gave her an extra blanket.”
Piper nodded, tucking the blanket in where it had fallen loose.
The pain of this family’s suffering was too much. Piper and Sanjay tried to remain strong, but I could hear their quiet tears, feel the desperation in their words. Even now, after a long day in court, Piper was trying to hold herself together, but the weight of it was too much. Too heavy.
“You’re welcome to leave, of course. But if you want to hang out, I’m just going to change.” She shrugged, her words casual, but I knew better. She wanted company. Especially since Sanjay was out of town.
“I’ve got nothing going on. Go change. I’ll order pizza.”
Her face lit up, just for a second. It was enough to bring a faint smile to my own lips. She needed something normal, something that made her feel human again. I nodded at her, offering her the briefest of comforts before she disappeared into the small bathroom.
I grabbed my phone from my bag and went to place our usual pizza order. As the minutes ticked by, the soft music on hold started to dull my senses. But then it happened—that sound.
A shrill, frantic beeping.
I froze. My blood ran cold. My heart slammed into my ribs.
The phone slipped from my hand, clattering to the floor as I bolted to Ishani’s side. I scarcely registered the bathroom door flying open, Piper’s shriek tearing through the air as she emerged, half-dressed and panic-stricken.
Ishani’s body jerked, seizing violently in the bed. The monitors went crazy, beeping at an almost inhuman pitch. Piper’s voice rose in frantic pleas as she threw off Ishani’s stuffed animals.
I couldn’t think. I couldn’t process.
Time stretched—everything slowed—and then the monitor flatlined. The sound was deafening, like a roar in my ears.
Piper’s hands shook as she reached for the nurse call button. I didn’t think. I reacted. I knocked her hand away, my voice hoarse as I shouted for her to go get Hannah.
Without a word, she sprinted from the room, barefoot, her shirt falling over her shoulder as she disappeared down the hall.
I had seconds. Seconds to save Ishani.
I closed my eyes, my breath tight in my chest. I had no choice. I didn’t know how long it would last, but I had to…
Then,a shadow. The air grew colder and thick with something I couldn’t name but knew better than my own unchanging face. That quiet dread. The hollow tilt of the world when something is off but invisible. Silence, stretching time thin. His heavy, evasive scent sharpening the static in the air.
Grim.
A flicker. Movement without form. A presence gone before it was seen. I couldn’t see him, but I felt him, in my marrow, in the hush…
In the slow, methodical pump of blood through my body, I felt it. The unfairness.
That my thread couldn’t be severed, yet the innocent soul of the girl before me could be cut down before she'd even had the chance to live.
Tears welled, burning. I choked on my sobs just as the door slammed open with a deafening thud. Regina burst in—coat flapping, backpack still slung over one shoulder, car keys clutched like a weapon.
“Get out!” I screamed, my hands pressed down hard on Ishani’s chest. My fingertips were freezing, the sensation crawling up my arms as the gold light flared between us. Regina stopped in her tracks, eyes wide in confusion. “Go! Please go!” I begged, my voice broken, desperate. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
Death’s presence thickened, overwhelming, almost suffocating. But with one glance at Ishani, the warmth returned under my hands, steady and grounding. A faint beep on the monitor followed by another, then a third. The beeping grew more sure, more confident.
Footsteps thundered from the hall, and right before Piper burst in, Regina crumpled to the floor, her body twisted, eyes locked in a vacant stare of pure horror. Blood seeped onto the tile, painting the cold floor beneath her.
Piper threw her arms out wide, blocking the nurses who had followed. She screamed, a sound that cracked the air.
I was out of time.
With no explanation for what had just unfolded, I did what I always did best.
