Milo and Maisie

Chapter Peter Pan: 101

Maisie tried not to cry. It would've been embarrassing before the housekeepers. "She's not dead, right? Please tell me she's not dead!" She must've yelled that because the housekeepers rotated their heads.

Natacha had frozen and stared helplessly at her.

Dr. Alexander, like any doctor, remained calm. "No, she's not. However, she broke her prosthetic and hit her head. She's in the ICU until we get the CT results."

"Oh God!" Not Feya! She had been through so much already! What on Earth happened? "Was it a car crash?"

"No. According to the girl who called it in, she fell through a bridge. She'll be okay, ma'am. We merely need those CT results."

A tear dripped down Maisie's cheek. She quickly stood and shoved her chair in. "I'm heading over there right now. Orlando Regional, you said?"

"Yes, ma'am. We'll take good care of her until you arrive. Tell the Emergency Room that Dr. Alexander sent you. I'm sorry again." With those words, he hung up.

Maisie sobbed. Why? Why did the world hate her so much?

Natacha gently took her hand. "What happened?"

"Feya—she had an accident! She's in the ICU! Natacha, please." Maisie hiccupped. She felt like she would Code V on her.

"Oh, sweetie!" Natacha also stood. "Go. I'll let Han, Jadis, and Andy know."

"But the training!"

"Friend's more important. Now, clock out. That's an order."

"Thank you, Natacha." Maisie hugged her.

"Be careful driving," she added. "Weather bad."

"I will." Maisie released her and jogged to the breakroom's cubbies, grabbing her backpack. She nearly broke the time clock, clocking out, and rushed outside to the storm.

This was the day Matthew died all over again.

***

Maisie was grateful that she drove her car to work that day but not thankful that she became caught in standstill traffic on I-4 on her way to Downtown Orlando. According to Waze, a truck hydroplaned and turned over. Emergency vehicles had shut down three lanes of traffic.

Maisie wished she had gone home and grabbed Milo for moral support. She was going to be there for a while and hated it. Feya was in the ICU.

She couldn't handle the stress and called her parents. "Mom, Dad, please!"

"Maisie?" Mrs. Foster sounded bewildered. "What's wrong? Why do you sound like that?"

"Feya had an accident, and I'm stuck in standstill traffic on the way to the hospital. Please."

"An accident?" Mrs. Foster's tone changed to fearful. "What are you talking about?"

"She fell through a bridge. The doctor called me and said she's at Orlando Regional. I'm scared, Mom."

"Dear," she heard her mom say to Mr. Foster, "book us a flight to Orlando immediately. Feya's in the hospital."

That time, Mr. Foster spoke. "What? Maisie, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, but Feya's not. She's in the ICU. The doctor said she's got a head injury and broke her prosthetic."

"We're coming down, May," Mrs. Foster said. "Your dad's looking at Southwest Flights right now. Is Milo with you?"

"He's not, Mom. I got straight on the highway. I can't go anywhere right now with this traffic jam."

Mrs. Foster raised her voice a little—"Jesus, Maisie!"—but calmed herself. "Okay, do you remember what your counselor told you to do?"