Winter Love (Book Two)

30 | O Holy Night

JESSE'S POV

It'd been a relatively short journey to the hospital, or at least it felt like one. My nerves were still running at an all time high, for an entirely different reason this time around. My mom's still alive. My mother is still alive, I kept repeating to myself. Almost as if the repetition of the words would allow me to digest and process the information I'd thought worse off just a few short minutes ago.

I'd explained the situation to Sami, who was thankful that I didn't have anything to worry about in the first place, but judging from the little crease in between his eyebrows, he was still clearly confused, and I don't blame him. I still can't seem to wrap my head around it all.

We drive on the hospital grounds for a few minutes, looking for a parking space as every spot seemed to be filled, showing that some of us are fortunate enough to associate Christmas with the holidays, but the ER unfortunately never closes, not for the patients or the doctors. We finally secure a spot next to a red sedan, right in front of the East Wing entrance. And from there, it all seems like such a flurry of movements. All robotic as I kill off the engine, marching into the sterilised hallways with Sami tailing beside me, as if I'd done all of this before.

We come to a stop in front of an older woman who sits behind the receptionist's desk. Her glasses pressed firmly over the top of her nose, reminding me of my eighth grade history teacher. And if it wasn't for the soft smile she wears on her bright red lips, I'd have assumed she was just as mean: "Hello, young men. How can I help you?"

"Afternoon, we're looking for a Ms. Ashford, I believe she was brought here a few hours ago by the police from a shooting."

Her eyes light up in remembrance, "Oh yes, let me confirm" she says, as she starts to type away at the computer screen in front of her. "She's in the trauma section. You'll have to go on over to the West Block, the third floor, room 1-1-7."

"Thank you so much. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas."

We trudge down the hallways, stopping once in a while to read signs or look at the pictures of the maps of the hospital, detailing the exact location of each section of these seemingly never ending hallways. And after the longest twelve minutes of my life, we'd finally touched base on the third floor.

We walk past room 110, and I feel the first remnants of sweat seep out of the pores in my forehead. For a very well-remembered reason, my heart beat rises as we make it past the next two wards.

The last time I'd been in a hospital like this one, not at my GPs, had been that time five years ago. When my mother laid in a bed, barely clinging to her life after she'd been beaten mercilessly by that animal. It'd been an eye opening moment for me of how cruel people can be to others. Even their 'loved ones'. And it officially marked the end of my childhood, which had shown signs of ending prior to that, but that was the final call. Realising that the woman that once bore so much strength and poise, had been reduced to a subhuman being. Unworthy of being seen, heard, or valued. Used and abused. And it was my responsibility to look after her and pick up whatever pieces were left behind.

And as we make it past ward 116, chills make their way down my spine. A fear wedged deep in my gut at what scene awaits me on the other side of the door. I know she's alive, and right now that's all that matters, but I hope whatever it is he did, she'll make it out alive.

My thoughts threaten to consume me whole that I almost miss the frail figure of the girl sitting on the bench a few doors down, fidgeting with her phone in hand; and despite my relief at Jakob's death, there's a semblance of guilt invoked by that figure. That girl. The very girl I'd tried to be a brother to, but nothing ever seemed to work. Despite her bratty behaviour and nasty tendencies, she'd lost a parent. All over again.