TWENTY-EIGHT
Jaxson
Madelyn’s heart stops beating three times on the way to the hospital.
Three times, I feel her life slipping away.
Three times, I feel my heart shatter.
Three times, I’m forced to imagine this world without her.
By the time we pull up in the ambulance bay at the hospital, my calm composure is nonexistent.
I’m fucking falling apart.
I sat in the back of the ambulance and watched Madelyn die.
They were able to revive her each time, but my heart doesn’t give a fuck about that detail. She died. Three goddamn times.
But she’s still fighting.
Madelyn is a fighter.
That’s what I need to focus on.
They rush her back to an operating room while a nurse guides me to a waiting room. I’m told to wait there for news— a doctor will be out whenever possible to talk to me about her condition.
Wait.
Like it’s normal for the woman I love to be fighting for her life.
I drop into a chair, hang my head in my hands, and lose myself to broken, angry sobs.
I’ve never felt more helpless and afraid in my life.
Holden shows up only minutes later. He makes his presence known and gives me a minute to compose myself.
He wants to ask. Desperate for any shred of information. But he can’t bring himself to say the words. Can’t bring himself to ask.
Summoning every single tiny sliver of strength I have left, I tell him what he wants to hear.
“She’s alive.”
He releases the breath he was holding and drops his head back against the wall.
“It’s bad, Holden. It’s really fucking bad.”
He turns to me with bloodshot eyes. “Tell me.”
“I-I—” I drag a shaking hand down my face.
I compose myself and try again. I know I should give it to him gently, but once I start, I can’t stop the words flowing from between my lips.
“There was so much fucking blood. There was barely an inch of her not covered. I don’t even know where she was bleeding from, man. I couldn’t focus enough to hear what the EMTs were saying. I’m so damn sorry. Her heart stopped beating three times, Holden. I watched—” I choke on a sob. “I watched helplessly as they fought to revive her three fucking times!”
I hear his sharp intake of breath, but I can’t bear to look at him. I can’t even speak anymore.
The rest of the family shows up, filling the small waiting room.
The nurse comes over and quietly explains that Madelyn has been taken back for emergency surgery. She can’t say anything about her condition, but she’s in good hands. They’re doing everything they can for her.
For hours, the waiting room is filled with deafening silence.
No one speaks. No one leaves. We sit. And we wait.
Holden sits woodenly beside me, eyes locked on the door leading to the operating rooms.
Camille and Presley sit on the floor in the far corner, arms wrapped around each other for comfort.
Mr. and Mrs. Sterling are next to Grams, all three of them holding hands and uttering silent prayers.
I pray. I bow my head and I pray to a God I’m not sure I believe in, but I’m desperate.
Time passes slowly and the wait is excruciating.
My body tenses when a man in blue scrubs pushes through the door, pulling a surgical cap from his head.
“Family of Madelyn Sterling?”
Everyone stands.
I search his face for clues, for any sign of whether or not she’s okay, but his expression gives nothing away.
The doctor strides across the small room and offers his hand to her parents.
“I’m Doctor Richardson. I’m the surgeon that operated on your daughter.”
They shake his hand, introducing themselves. Holden cuts in, shaking the surgeon’s hand while pummeling him with questions without allowing him to actually answer any.
“What happened? How is she? Is my sister okay? When can we see her?”
“Holden give the doctor a chance to speak,” Mrs. Sterling says softly, placing her hand on Holden’s arm and giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Quite alright. I understand how anxious you must be.”
Holden crosses his arms over his chest. I can tell he’s biting his tongue so the doctor can talk. We all listen intently as he explains Madelyn’s condition.
“Madelyn was bleeding profusely when she was brought in. It took a while to control the bleeding and she lost a lot of blood, but we were able to stop it. After assessing her injuries, we were able to determine that she sustained two gunshot wounds—one to the lower abdomen, the other to her shoulder. She also suffered a severe head trauma that left a laceration above her right eye.
“The shot to her shoulder went straight through, so we were able to close it up easily, but the shot to her abdomen was much worse. The angle in which it entered caused it to tear through her uterus and left fallopian tube. The damage was significant and unfortunately...we were unable to save the baby.”
A chorus of gasps fills the room. But me? I can’t fucking breathe.
“Baby? … Madelyn was pregnant?”
A pit opens up in my stomach and a flood of memories washes over me.
My beautiful girl has to grieve the loss of another baby. Hasn’t she fucking suffered enough?
“I’m so sorry. Yes, she was pregnant. I’d say around seventeen weeks. There was no heartbeat when she came in and the damage from the bullet was too severe. There was absolutely nothing we could do. We’ve repaired the damage as much as possible, but I’m afraid she’ll have a lot of scarring. And it’s likely she’ll be unable to have children in the future.”
I faintly hear Mrs. Sterling’s choked sobs, and Mr. Sterling’s quiet murmurs of comfort, but my focus is zeroed in on the doctor.
Camille’s voice breaks through the white noise.
“Please tell us that’s all,” she pleads.
Dr. Richardson shakes his head somberly.
“I’m afraid not. Those were the worst of the injuries, but she also has multiple broken ribs and deep bruising covering most of her body…”
He quiets as Mrs. Sterling loses herself to tears. I’ve never seen her so distraught.
I stand stoically, waiting for the rest. Somehow, I know he hasn’t told us the worst.
“But...she’ll be okay, right?” Holden asks, voice laced with desperation and worry.
“I’m afraid that’s a difficult question to answer. We’ve taken care of her injuries and given her a blood transfusion, but we can’t predict what will happen from this point. Madelyn’s heart stopped while on the operating table and it took several minutes to revive her. I’m told there were also three similar instances en route to the hospital.”
Holden’s head jerks toward me, his eyes full of questions.
A single nod from me confirms the doctor’s words. Tears stream down my cheeks. I can still hear that monitor flatline. Not a sound I’m likely to forget, it will haunt me for the rest of my life. It killed a little piece of me every time. Worst thing I’ve ever experienced.
Holden pulls me toward him, forcing me to finally release every bit of emotion I’ve been holding in.
The doctor gives us a minute to take in the news before he delivers the final blow.
“Madelyn’s body suffered a great deal of trauma tonight. We’ve done everything we can to treat her injuries, but we’ve not been able to wake her since bringing her out of surgery. All we can do now is wait and give her body time to heal itself.”
“She’s in a coma?” Presley asks in a barely audible whisper.
Dr. Richardson nods. “It’s not uncommon in cases like this, but the next 48 hours are critical.” He inhales deeply before continuing. “I never like breaking news like this to families, but you all need to be prepared for the worst. We’re hopeful that she’ll make a full recovery, but the reality is we have no way of knowing if her body will suffer any lasting effects from the trauma. Physical injuries aside, her brain was starved of oxygen for quite some time, which can cause life-changing and debilitating problems. There is also a chance she might not wake up at all.”
His words barely reach my ears before my legs give out and my knees hit the cold, hard floor. Selfishly, I can’t provide comfort to her family right now. I’m lost in my own grief. Those horrible fucking words repeating over and over again in my head.
She might not wake up at all.
I can’t lose the reason I breathe.