desertion

73

LYDIA

The world was slow and blurry as my eyes fluttered open. The harsh hospital lights made me squint, and I blinked several times, trying to adjust. The familiar sterile scent of the hospital hit me, and my stomach twisted.

I looked around the room. Miles and Dad were there, each looking worn but alert. Chris and Dahlia were here too. Chris sat beside Dad, his small hands gripping the armrest of the chair tightly. Dahlia leaned against Miles, her eyes on me, wide and concerned.

I scanned the room again. No Buck. For some reason, that felt wrong. Buck was always there, always steady in the chaos.

Dahlia pointed at me, her tiny finger shaking slightly. Her gesture grabbed Miles's attention first, then Dad's. Miles turned to me, his face lighting up with a soft smile when he realized I was awake.

He said something, his lips moving into something I should have understood. But I couldn't. There was nothing—no sound, no noise, just a strange, deafening sound.

I tilted my head, frowning, and he said something else. His grin was still there,  but my heart started pounding.

I couldn't hear.

The realization hit like a tidal wave, and panic set in immediately.  My breaths came faster as I looked around the room, searching for anything that might explain this nightmare. The monitors were still attached to me, but I couldn't hear their beeping. I couldn't hear anything.

I looked at Dad as he stood up, his face etched with concern. He said something, his mouth forming words I couldn't understand. Tears welled up in my eyes, spilling over as I covered my ears with trembling hands. Maybe if I pressed hard enough, the sound would come back.

But it didn't.

I started sobbing, the soundless cries shaking my chest.

********

MILES

Lydia's face crumpled as tears poured down her cheeks, and the sight broke something inside me. Her hands were trembling as she held them against her ears, her body shaking with silent cries.

Beside me, Dahlia was crying too, though quietly, as if she didn't want to draw attention. Chris's eyes glistened with unshed tears as he stayed by Eddie's side, watching Lydia with wide, fearful eyes.

I stepped closer to Lydia, my heart aching as I saw how small and fragile she looked. I placed a hand gently on her shoulder, trying to steady her. "Lydia, calm down," I said, hoping my voice would ground her.

The door opened, and the doctor walked in with a nurse at his side. Their faces were calm but focused as they approached. Eddie and I moved back to give them some space.

The nurse leaned over Lydia, her voice calm but firm. "Her blood pressure is rising," she said, looking up at the monitor.

The doctor nodded, glancing between Lydia and the screen. "Lydia, you need to calm down," he said slowly, his tone gently but firm. "You're okay. You're safe."

Lydia's voice broke through then, barely a whisper but clear enough to hear. "Why can't I hear?" She asked, over and over, her voice trembling with fear.

The nurse and doctor exchanged a glance, their expressions tight with concern.

"She's had too many doses of sedatives today," the nurse said quietly. "We can't give her another."

The doctor nodded. "Administer a relaxant," he said.

The nurse gave a small nod and quickly left the room.

The doctor turned to Eddie, his tone calm but serious. "We'll use the relaxant to calm her down. Once she's stable, we'll take her for an MRI to see what's causing the hearing loss."

Eddie didn't respond at first, just nodded slowly, his shoulders slumping as a small, broken sob escaped him. He sank into a chair, his head in his hands.

Dahlia stepped closer to me, burying her face in my side as her small body shook with quiet sobs. I wrapped an arm around her, holding her close, trying to be strong for her and for Lydia.

Chris stayed by Eddie, his eyes fixed on Lydia. His small hands clenched into fists, but his tears didn't fall. He just stared at his sister, his expression a mix of fear and helplessness.

Lydia had curled into herself on the bed, her knees pulled up to her chest and her hands still pressed against her ears. She looked so lost, so small.

I tightened my hold on Dahlia, my heart breaking  as I watched her. I wished I could fix this, take away her fear and pain. But all I could do was stand there and wait, hoping the doctors could figure out what was wrong. Hoping we wouldn't lose another piece of Lydia.