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Naomi Hackett tried to force the guilt out of her system, but it was to no avail.
No matter how hard she tried to justify it, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she should be at home rather than here.
“Here” was the spartan apartment she kept in Playa Vista, only minutes from her tech company’s offices. From a practical perspective, it made a lot of sense. “Home” was the palatial estate in Pacific Palisades that she shared with her husband and child. Unfortunately, commuting from the office to the house on a weekday was typically an hour-long proposition at best. And these days, that was valuable time wasted.
After all, her startup, Hackett Insights, was about to make its giant marketing push right after the start of the new year and every moment counted. Naomi was a seasoned pro, having worked in senior positions at multiple major tech companies in her career.
But this was the first time she’d branched out on her own, with her own name a selling point for the company. As part of that process, last year she’d relocated the family from Silicon Valley down south to be closer to this ocean-adjacent part of Los Angeles, known as Silicon Beach. And after recently getting a major round of funding for Hackett Insights, she couldn’t afford to drop the ball when it was their resources at stake.
All of that meant that instead of being at home right now with her doting husband and adorable five-year-old daughter, she was sitting on an uncomfortable couch in the pre-furnished apartment she’d rented for the last few months, all so that she could stay close to work during the week.
She thought back to her daughter Olivia’s disappointed face on FaceTime earlier tonight when she learned that Mommy wouldn’t be tucking her in again and consoled herself with one fact. This would be the last night like that for a while. Tomorrow was Friday. Saturday was Christmas Eve. And then there would be a whole week where she could work from home. That was what she’d told Olivia on the phone earlier—that starting tomorrow, Mommy would be around for a whole week.
But for that to happen, Naomi really had to bear down. Even though it was approaching 9:30, she still had a couple of hours of work to do to prep for the final all-hands meeting of the year tomorrow. That”s why she had called the food delivery service—to re-fuel with a late-night order of In-N-Out, which should be here in the next few minutes.
She stared at the document in front of her, trying to focus. But she must have been really tired because the words blurred together. Even though she’d just gotten up a little while ago to change into more casual attire, she decided she need to recharge again, get the blood pumping.
She tried to push herself up, using the arm of the couch. But to her surprise, her arms felt shockingly weak, way more than one would expect simply from not having eaten since 1 p.m. Her muscles were stiff and borderline unresponsive. It took all of her strength to stand upright.
Something felt off. It had snuck up on her because she’d been sitting in the same spot on the couch for the last few minutes, but now the issue was apparent. She briefly wondered if her sense of guilt over poor parenting was making her physically ill. But this was something else, something more. It felt like her whole body was shutting down.
She tried to reach down to the coffee table to grab her cell phone but felt wobbly and stopped, worried that she might topple over. Instead, she decided to focus her efforts on getting to the front door. She was friendly with Jillian, the next-door neighbor, and was sure that if she could get to her, the woman could help or at least call for some.
So she forced one foot in front of the other, feeling like the Tin Man in The Wizard of Oz. Suddenly her methodical steps got away from her and she found herself careening toward the door. She slammed into it much harder than expected, but to her surprise and fear, there was no pain from the collision. Her entire torso felt numb.
She attempted to reach down and unlock the deadbolt but found it nearly impossible. Not only were her fingers not working properly, but her vision was also deteriorating rapidly. She managed to press her palms together on either side of the bolt and, using their collective force, twist the deadbolt to the side.
She tried to do the same with the door handle, only to discover a new challenge. Her lungs weren”t working right. She couldn”t inhale normally, barely able to suck any air in through her numb lips. A rush of panic coursed through her as she realized that unless something changed fast, in a matter of seconds, she wouldn”t be able to breathe at all.
She fixed all her energy on twisting the door handle with her compressed palms and managed to turn it. She clung to the handle as best she could as she lost her balance and toppled backward. The door opened as she hit the ground. In the distance, she could see the vague outline of the hallway.
But she could no longer move, or suck in breath, and just before everything turned dark for her, she had a last fleeting revelation. Her heart had stopped.