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Max
The elevator creaks up to the Pediatric Oncology unit, and I rub the back of my neck. I should’ve stayed with Sloane last night. At least I might have gotten some sleep. I tossed and turned in my bed for hours, wondering who might be waiting for me when I walked outside this morning.
Fortunately, Sloane’s dad didn’t follow through on the car bomb since I’ve driven my car twice since leaving her place. I’d really like not to die in an explosion or raging inferno. I’ve always been panicked about my body burning but my mind still being alert enough to feel myself crisping up in the flames. Sick and twisted, I know, but one of the hazards of the job.
I’d rather take a shot to the head any day.
The elevator doors open and I step into the hallway, the kids’ loud shrieks and giggles echoing in the space. I have garbage bags full of toys for the kids on the floor. Not all of them come from families with a lot of money, and even though Christmas just passed, I figured I’d play Santa Claus one more time for them. The second I set foot into the playroom, it’s like I turned into the goddamn Pied Piper. The kids come running, crowded around me, pelting me with questions.
“What’s in the bags?”
“Did you bring us surprises?”
“Are you one of Santa’s elves?”
That one gets a loud chuckle.
“Talk to Nurse Clara. I’m putting her in charge of handing out your surprises.” I nod at the white-haired nurse who actually kind of looks a lot like Mrs. Claus. And since it’s after Christmas and the North Pole is on break, why wouldn’t she be here, spreading cheer? “I’m her elf.”
The kids laugh and crowd the nurses’ station, jumping up and down, hands out.
Clara winks at me. “You’re a real prince. You just made their day!”
I shrug. “I’m a sucker for big post-Christmas sales.”
Her face falls. “I’ll have to save a gift for Eli.”
“Why? Where is he?”
“He woke up this morning with a very high fever. Poor thing is running an infection from the high-dosage chemotherapy, and the doctors have to speed up the timelines for his bone marrow transplant.”
“Damn.” I lean across the desk and drop my head in my hand. “What do they do in the meantime?”
Clara shrugs. “They aren’t really saying anything yet. His body needs to get stronger before he can undergo surgery, so right now they’re just working on bringing down the fever. And finding a donor, which has been tough. They moved him this morning into the isolation wing until they can bring down the fever. If he has an infection, being here could be even more dangerous for him.”
I nod. “Yeah…” I turn around, watching the kids ransack my large trash bags. They can’t have sugar, so why not more toys? You can’t ever really have enough of them.
“His brother Tommy is here. I think he’s in Eli’s room. He was gone when Tommy arrived, and I think he wants to stay close to make sure everything stabilizes.”
“I’ll stop by to see if he needs anything.”
“Unfortunately, a sack full of toys won’t help them,” Clara says with a sad shake of her head.
If only it were that simple, right?
I swallow hard and walk toward the corridor where Eli’s room is located. I flex my fingers and roll my neck as I creep closer. Mentally preparing, physically preparing…for what, I have no idea. I can’t imagine the things he’s had to deal with, watching his little brother suffer with leukemia, hearing that he has a slim chance of survival, panicking that his weak body has to now fight off an infection before the doctors can try to save his life with surgery…
I love my sister. Adore her and her smart-ass mouth. Seeing her like that would destroy me. I fist my hand and knock on my head three times. Yes, it’s my substitution for wood.
I knock on the door once and push it open slowly. I feel like I may have broken through to him last time, but who knows what he’ll be like today? Not that I’d blame him. I probably shouldn’t even be here right now. I’m sure the last thing he wants to do now is talk anyway.
He’s sitting in a chair across the room, right under the window. His body is hunched over, his head is in his hands, shoulders shaking.
Fuck, he’s crying. I stand still, not sure what to do…should I say something? Just walk out of the room? My chest tightens, and I clear my throat.
Tommy looks up, his eyes red-rimmed, face blotchy. Christ, what the hell do I even say?
He clasps his hands together. “Eli is in bad shape,” he says, his voice cracking.
