08-19-2018, 09:44 PM
Hospitals prickled her skin with unease.
Natalie's pace slowed. Back home she wouldn't have even been allowed this close since she was not a relative, and she had no wish to intrude. There was nothing she could do beyond getting in the way anyway, and Jay's family would not want a stranger amongst them at such a time. The air split when Jay's dad caught him in the corridor, one small step away from confrontation before he slipped into the room with Jensen -- without waiting for further acknowledgement from his father. Tension rippled behind him. Then the door clicked shut.
Natalie brushed the hair from her face as she sank into one of the metal seats lining the corridor. She would have waited in the car if not for Jensen's confession of concern squeezing tight her chest, her pinched expression sharing the burden even if she didn't voice it. She had no doubt in Jensen's skill. But even once the miracle settled, she doubted this would go easy for Jay.
After a while raised voices echoed within. She'd been studying the tiles on the floor while she waited, trying not to dwell on the stink of antiseptic trying to pluck free memories best left forgotten. Now her stomach knotted, uncertain, as she glanced up. A window peered into the room, blinds shading the view, but presently the door rocked its hinges with the sheer force it was wrenched open, and the yelling spilled out like a bloody wound. Her heart sank.
She stood slowly, hands clasped, assessing the situation silently. Jay's father clawed the handle, anger erupting in great gouts of vitriol. He stormed back into the room, words cyclones meant to eject the unwanted visitors -- and probably fists if that did not work. It was that bad.
She caught Jensen's eye in brief question, unsure how or why things had gone so wrong.
And saw there in the shadows of the room a skeletal girl heaped under blankets, unmoving. Unhealed, certainly. But it wasn't pity pulling Natalie's attention; it was something else. Like a shiver of butterfly wings against the soul; the same shy tug she had felt in Africa, that same pleasant resonance encouraging a sister of Evelyn. Surprise rippled like a stone dropped in a pond before her expression stilled.
Then her jaw hardened with new realisation.
Sickness was not unknown now, even in America, and no doctor would have diagnosed cancer without evidence.
Her parents knew.
They knew, and chose to lie to themselves.
They were watching her die.
She pressed her emotions down deep before they had the chance to rise or question, purposefully avoiding settling her attention on Jay. The desperate tear of his voice was enough, shaking out anger that threatened to bite into her tone. But she swallowed it like poison, her pale gaze indifferent as she pressed passed the threshold, just inside the door.
"That's enough." The severity of pale gaze belied her youth. She had a demeanour that fully expected to hold the attention of the room, which might fall either side of advantage given the context. Her accent alone marked her a grave outsider, but if Jay's father was gunning to argue with strangers she hoped he might think twice before aggression towards a woman. Sometimes that alone diffused a situation. Either way she wouldn't brook it; she treated the chaos with the derision of children caught in a petty squabble.
Her gaze moved to encompass Jay's mother, hoping to elicit a calming influence. Her voice softened. "Your daughter doesn't need to hear this. We've travelled a long way to a difficult end. Give him a moment to say goodbye. Then we'll leave." The appeal encompassed an entreaty for Jensen's help to smooth this path and encourage them from the room, confidant his charm could win them over. She needed all the time she could get. Her heart beat hard.
Natalie's pace slowed. Back home she wouldn't have even been allowed this close since she was not a relative, and she had no wish to intrude. There was nothing she could do beyond getting in the way anyway, and Jay's family would not want a stranger amongst them at such a time. The air split when Jay's dad caught him in the corridor, one small step away from confrontation before he slipped into the room with Jensen -- without waiting for further acknowledgement from his father. Tension rippled behind him. Then the door clicked shut.
Natalie brushed the hair from her face as she sank into one of the metal seats lining the corridor. She would have waited in the car if not for Jensen's confession of concern squeezing tight her chest, her pinched expression sharing the burden even if she didn't voice it. She had no doubt in Jensen's skill. But even once the miracle settled, she doubted this would go easy for Jay.
After a while raised voices echoed within. She'd been studying the tiles on the floor while she waited, trying not to dwell on the stink of antiseptic trying to pluck free memories best left forgotten. Now her stomach knotted, uncertain, as she glanced up. A window peered into the room, blinds shading the view, but presently the door rocked its hinges with the sheer force it was wrenched open, and the yelling spilled out like a bloody wound. Her heart sank.
She stood slowly, hands clasped, assessing the situation silently. Jay's father clawed the handle, anger erupting in great gouts of vitriol. He stormed back into the room, words cyclones meant to eject the unwanted visitors -- and probably fists if that did not work. It was that bad.
She caught Jensen's eye in brief question, unsure how or why things had gone so wrong.
And saw there in the shadows of the room a skeletal girl heaped under blankets, unmoving. Unhealed, certainly. But it wasn't pity pulling Natalie's attention; it was something else. Like a shiver of butterfly wings against the soul; the same shy tug she had felt in Africa, that same pleasant resonance encouraging a sister of Evelyn. Surprise rippled like a stone dropped in a pond before her expression stilled.
Then her jaw hardened with new realisation.
Sickness was not unknown now, even in America, and no doctor would have diagnosed cancer without evidence.
Her parents knew.
They knew, and chose to lie to themselves.
They were watching her die.
She pressed her emotions down deep before they had the chance to rise or question, purposefully avoiding settling her attention on Jay. The desperate tear of his voice was enough, shaking out anger that threatened to bite into her tone. But she swallowed it like poison, her pale gaze indifferent as she pressed passed the threshold, just inside the door.
"That's enough." The severity of pale gaze belied her youth. She had a demeanour that fully expected to hold the attention of the room, which might fall either side of advantage given the context. Her accent alone marked her a grave outsider, but if Jay's father was gunning to argue with strangers she hoped he might think twice before aggression towards a woman. Sometimes that alone diffused a situation. Either way she wouldn't brook it; she treated the chaos with the derision of children caught in a petty squabble.
Her gaze moved to encompass Jay's mother, hoping to elicit a calming influence. Her voice softened. "Your daughter doesn't need to hear this. We've travelled a long way to a difficult end. Give him a moment to say goodbye. Then we'll leave." The appeal encompassed an entreaty for Jensen's help to smooth this path and encourage them from the room, confidant his charm could win them over. She needed all the time she could get. Her heart beat hard.