Chapter 9 #4
“I understand that, but we have doctors on staff who have methods that don’t require verbal communication.”
Her parents looked at the doctor skeptically, and Dell too wondered what kinds of methods could be used on someone in a coma.
Eventually, her father sighed. “Whatever it takes. We just want to know what happened to our girl.” He looked down at Dell with a heartbreaking sadness.
It made Dell have to look away. She busied herself examining another vase of flowers, these ones orange roses and pink lilies, a burst of vibrant color among the otherwise somber ones, and noted the tag said they were from the staff at Pergo.
She wondered fleetingly if news of her condition had made the wait for a table even longer.
“I’ll be back when I have more news,” Dr. Albright said.
“Thank you, Doctor,” her father said with a nod.
Dr. Albright left, and Dell’s father pulled her mother into a hug.
“Billy, what are we going to do?” Patricia said in a wobbly voice to his chest.
“She’ll pull through, Patty. She always does,” he assured her, and stroked her back.
Patricia turned to look at him with weepy wet eyes like she knew he was right but wasn’t so sure this time.
“What if . . . What if we pushed her too hard?” her mother weepily asked.
“How do you mean?” her dad said.
“I don’t know. Not intentionally, of course, but our children are high achievers, if you haven’t noticed.”
William chuckled a small laugh. “Of their own accord.”
Patricia grimaced. “Not really, Billy. I mean, the boys are running themselves ragged following in your footsteps, and Dell
has her hands in so many pots to keep up, I can’t say I’m surprised she crashed.”
Both her parents looked at Dell’s still body with remorse.
“And I don’t think she even loves Tommy,” her mother said.
Dell reeled in surprise to hear her say such a thing.
“Can’t say I love him either . . .” her father muttered.
Patricia shot him a look. She picked up Dell’s limp hand again and stroked it. “I worry she’s going to marry him because she feels she has to, not because she wants to.”
Again, Dell was shocked. Am I that obvious?
“What makes you say that?” her father asked.
Patricia lovingly looked down at Dell and stroked her cheek. “A mother knows these things. I’ve just never said anything because
she seemed happier to be busy. Even as a little girl she could never sit still.”
“She’s still now,” William said. “And not in a good way.”
“Well, when she wakes up, we’ll make sure she knows how proud of her we are and her happiness is all that really matters,”
her mother said.
Her father pulled her into another hug.
“Your parents are lovely,” Cole said from the corner where he’d stood out of the way.
Dell turned to see him bordered by trees as if he were standing in a forest, and got the sudden sense she’d seen the view
before. She blinked several times and felt it dissolve.
“Are you all right?” Cole asked at what must have been the strange look on her face.
Pixels of the forest scene still lingered, dotting her mental vision in a way that felt like . . . a memory. She didn’t know
what to make of it.
“Yeah,” she said with a shake of her head. “I just never realized my mom knew the pressure I’m under. It’s nice to hear them
say they are proud of me.”
“They have a lot to be proud of. Do you want to sit down?” he asked, and gestured at the chair beside him. She was still a
bit dazed.
Dell shook her head. “No, I’m fine. Speaking of parents, we need to find Robbie’s mom.” She nodded at his tablet still in his hand and joined him in the corner.
“Right. That,” he said, and pressed a button to bring it to life.
To Dell’s surprise, he didn’t pull away when she leaned in to look. To her further surprise, it looked like a normal tablet.
Where she might have expected some otherworldly language, maybe symbols and signs she couldn’t interpret, it was a standard
home screen with little app widgets and a search bar.
“Getting more corporate by the minute,” she said to Cole.
He poked an app, which looked like a contacts directory, and up popped a box listing names with another search bar.
“Can you look up anyone with this?” she asked.
“Within some limits, but mostly yes.”
“That’s amazing,” she said as he typed in Barbara Sanders and hit Search.
“This will bring up her case file and direct me to her case manager. I can’t directly contact her if she’s moved on already, but I can send a message through her manager.”
“That is . . . weird and cool.”
Cole huffed a little laugh. “Yeah, I guess it is weird and cool.” His arm rested against Dell’s bare arm from where she’d
leaned in to look. Neither of them moved. Dell watched as a new window popped up with a blank email draft already addressed
to someone named Maxine Vanguard.
“Ah, Maxine,” Cole said. “She’s lovely. She will certainly pass along a message.”
Dell was still reeling that any of this was possible. “Afterlife emails. Who knew,” she said, unable to keep the disbelief
out of her voice despite seeing it with her own eyes.
“What would you like it to say?” he asked as he quickly typed out an introduction.
Hi Maxine,
Cole Lewis from Transitions. I’ve made contact with Barbara Sanders’s son, Robert, and he asked to deliver a message. Could
you please pass along the following?
His thumbs hovered over the screen’s keyboard, waiting. He tilted his face toward Dell with a question in his eyes.
“Oh, um. Robbie asked that I tell her he and Grandpa Charlie are okay and he misses her.” Her voice pinched with emotion.
Cole added the words to the email and hit Send. “Will we know if she responds?” she asked, full of hope.
“We will.”
“Good. Thank you for doing that.”
“My pleasure.”
They were staring at each other again, Dell feeling that mysterious, distant tug, when her father’s voice pulled their attention.
“Andy?” he said with his phone pressed to his ear. “Yes, we are still at the hospital. What’s going on?”
Dell bit her lip and watched her father listen to whatever her brother was saying.
“What’s going on?” her mother echoed.
Her father angled the phone from his mouth. “It’s the boys. They say turn on the five o’clock news.”
Dell’s empty chest lifted. She watched her mother find the TV remote and click it on.
The flat screen mounted on the wall came to life, already set to a local news channel.
Dell gasped and sealed herself to Cole’s side without even noticing it.
Video footage showed Evelyn marching down city hall’s steps, flanked by security and her legal team, including Mr. Sterling, and fending off a crowd of reporters and photographers.
Breaking News scrolled across the screen’s bottom while the camera panned over to focus on a young reporter with long brown hair and pink
lips.
“We’re coming to you live from city hall, where Mayor Evelyn Moratto can be seen making a dramatic exit, accompanied by her
legal team and security,” the reporter said. “We’ve just learned moments ago her son, Thomas Moratto, has been arrested on
conspiracy to commit murder charges. Earlier today, Mr. Moratto admitted to a group of reporters outside the home he shares
with his fiancée, Dell Rodgers, local chef and restaurant owner and daughter of prominent San Francisco real estate tycoon,
William Rodgers, that with the help of his mother, he had plans to murder Ms. Rodgers on their honeymoon set for next week.
Channel Four has obtained this footage. Viewer discretion is advised, as this is sensitive content.”