Overdose

~Grayson

". . . I'll give you a call once I'm free. Until then—"

"Can I have a minute?"

Philip throws me a glance before turning back to the lady he was talking to. His heavy British accent dominates again as he resumes speaking to her. "I'll get back to you in a while."

"Sure." A smile graces her face as she remains clutching an orange file to her chest.

Philip nods and starts heading towards the opposite direction. I sigh, resuming my walking so that I can catch up to him. I have been trying to talk to him for the past few minutes but he has been behaving like the ass he is.

Just like his sister, Zoe, he just loves getting on my nerves.

"Phil—"

"I don't have a minute to spare."

His hands remain tucked in his suit pockets as his footsteps echo around the passage.

"This is important!"

He stops for a moment to look at me. "Important to you? Sure. Worth my time? No."

He resumes walking after that.

"I'm leaving early today," I say ignoring his remark.

"And why is that?"

I can see the corner of his brows lift up in their usual calm, relaxed way. A deliberate act rather than a reflex, I can tell. I bite back the snide remark tipping my tongue at his sudden curiosity. I don't have the time to get into a fight.

"I just got a call. My sister was rushed to the ICU."

"And?"

"I need to get to the hospital as soon as I can. Clade isn't around and I can't find any other of his brothers so I decided to inform you before leaving."

He stops walking now and turns around so he's facing me.

"Leaving to go where?"

The way he quirks the corner of his brows irritates me and I'm tempted to send a punch to his face. He's probably doing this on purpose.

"The hospital," I say through clenched teeth.

"And why are you going there exactly?"

"I already told you. My sister was rushed to the ICU!"

"I still don't get your point, Wyatt. How is that of any concern to you?"

I bite my cheeks for a minute as I stare at his face. It was too much for me to expect someone like him to have any form of human sympathy. At this point, it's safe to say that wickedness runs in their bloodline.

"The day Zoe ends up in a hospital bed, you'll probably know what concern it is to me."

I turn to leave but halt on hearing his words.

"You haven't been permitted to leave work yet."

"Why?" I ask, my back still facing him.

"You don't have a valid reason to."

I don't bother turning before walking away. I hear his voice coming after me but I ignore him as I head towards the elevator. I have already wasted more time than there is need to.

♪~√~♪~√~♪

I scan the almost crowded waiting room the moment I make it there, trying to stomach the heavy smell of antiseptic hovering over the place. It's almost as if the place is drenched in bleach. I try not to think of the bitterness at the back of my throat as my eyes roam the room.

At first I don't make out any familiar faces. Upon a second scan I find Tiffany, my sister's best friend, sitting on one of the perforated steel chairs, her face almost blocked out by her ash hoodie.

I make a beeline towards her and it's only when I'm in front of her that I begin to pick up sniffing sounds.

"Tiffany," I call, placing my fingers lightly on her shoulders.

She looks up and gets on her feet upon seeing me. The tears streaming down her face are now visible. My heart lurches in my chest and my head swirls with different thoughts about what could have possibly happened to my sister.

"What happened? Why are you crying? Where is she? Did the doctors say anything? How did this all begin in the first place? I thought she was in the hospital," I rush out in one breath.

I take in a deep breath while Tiffany just remains mute, sniffing at intervals.

"Tiffany—"

"Mr. Wyatt?"

I turn towards the direction my name came from to find a brown skinned man dressed in a light blue scrub. His facemask is pulled down, giving a good view of his face.

"Yes?"

I find myself heading towards him and leaving Tiffany behind. "Is my sister okay?"

"We've managed to stabilise her but I don't think her situation would get any better from here."

"What do you mean, Doc? What happened to her?"

"She overdosed."

"Overdosed?" I repeat like the word is foreign to me.

"We found traces of narcotics and some other foreign substances in her blood. We're still running a few tests and the results aren't looking good at all. I'm afraid she might have sustained a few internal injuries.

"As for her leukaemia, we've discontinued any further treatment. I'm afraid we'll have to cut off her chemotherapy. You'll be free to take her home when she's stable enough."

I allow the words to sink in before speaking. "But how did this happen? I thought she wasn't allowed to leave the hospital. How could she have possibly—"

"Her friend here requested that we let her attend her prom."

The doctor motions to Tiffany who is still sniffing behind me. I throw her a glance before turning back to the doctor.

"And you allowed them?"

"She brought a signed consent from you. We couldn't go against it."

I blink before turning to Tiffany. She lowers her eyes and refuses to meet my gaze. I let out a sigh before turning back to the doctor.

"But how can you discontinue her chemotherapy, Doc? What will happen to her?"

My voice breaks towards the end and I try to keep myself from breaking down. Not here, not now.

"I'm sorry but we can't do anything now. I tried my best up till now—"

"I know."

"—but I can't do anything again until you're able to arrange the payment."

I try not to sound desperate as I continue pleading. "I'll get the money as soon as I can. I—"

"I'm sorry Mr. Wyatt. This isn't in my hands anymore. Have a nice day."

He turns and walks away, ignoring my call for him to stop. I watch him walking away, feeling helpless for a few minutes before a sudden surge of anger courses through me.

Before I can control myself, I send my fist flying into the nearby wall. The action causes Tiffany to flinch and I glance around, suddenly remembering my environment. Everyone in the room is staring at me, all probably sharing the same thought.

I turn to Tiffany and gesture for her to follow me before leaving the room. I stop when I get to a less crowded place and wait until her footsteps die down.

"What happened to Ari?"

I keep my eyes fixed on the white tiled floor as I await a response. I get none. I look up to find Tiffany staring at the floor.

"Tiffany, please don't make me repeat myself. I just want to know why you forged a consent for the hospital and what exactly happened to Ari. How did she overdose when she doesn't even take drugs?"

Tiffany looks up from the floor and I can see the unshed tears brimming her eyes. Her lips tremble as she begins to speak.

"I—I—Ari—"

Her words are interrupted by hiccups and she seems to have trouble breathing.

"Hey, calm down," I say, taking her hand in mine.

I lead her to one of the metal seats available there before heading to a dispenser. I fill a paper cup with water and hand it over to her. I watch as she takes a sip and I wait until she's calm enough before I take a seat next to her.

Without any probing, she begins to talk. Her words are shaky at first but then gradually become stable.

"I—It's all my fault. I—I was the one w—who convinced A—Ari to come to prom. She also wanted to go but she wasn't s—sure you would let her go. We all know how overprotective you can be. So I. . ."

I wait for her to continue but when she doesn't, I ask, "You what?"

"I forged the consent letter." The tears slide down her cheeks at this point. "I promise Ari didn't have anything to do with it. She didn't even know the letter wasn't from you. She doubted at first but I managed to convince her. Even then she was still reluctant. I know I shouldn't have done it but I really wanted her to be happy.

"She's been dying to go to prom since we were in the ninth grade. And if she didn't have this relapse of leukaemia she would have been able to go. I didn't want her to be sad and sulking while her mates enjoyed herself. I just—"

"How did she overdose?"

My tone is flat, lacking any form of sympathy. She looks taken aback for a moment and even I am shocked by my tone. She recovers quickly and replies.

"She didn't take the drugs herself. Someone kept slipping it into her drink without her knowledge."

I can feel my blood boiling as I ask the next question. "And who was it?"

She remains silent and I can feel my nerves on the verge of snapping.

"I said, WHO FUCKING GAVE HER THE DRUGS!?"

She flinches at my tone and I cuss under my breath for a second. I take a deep breath before speaking. "Look Tiffany—"

"I don't know who did it. I have no idea. I promise."

Her breathing has become unstable again and she's trembling at this moment. She buries her face in her palms, her loud sobs filling the room.

I sigh before pulling her into a hug.

"I'm so sorry, I'm really very sorry. I—I—"

"Shh, it's okay."

She keeps shut and it takes a while for her to calm down. I let her go the moment I notice she's calm enough.

"You're not at fault, okay?"

She nods slowly but refuses to meet my gaze.

"I think we should check on Ari now," I say.

I'm about to stand but she holds onto my hand stopping me.

"What happened?" I ask, sitting back beside her.

"The doctor said they're cutting Ari's chemo?"

"That's not gonna happen, I'll try to find a way to—"

"It's only going to get worse by the day and if they cut her chemo. . . I don't know what's gonna happen."

"Don't worry about that. I'll do some—"

"Why don't you ask Ren? Surely she can do something. We're running out of time and I don't think we have an option at this moment."

I look away from her crystal blue eyes and fix it on the dispenser nearby. I know she only wishes good for Ari, she's as good as a sister, but at this moment, I don't how to reply her.

"Let's go see Ari," I say, getting up.

I walk away immediately, leaving no room for arguments. I hear her footsteps behind me but I try to ignore it as I head towards the waiting room.

I meet a nurse on the way there. After speaking to her, I discover Ari has been moved to the step down unit.

When we get there, Tiffany remains at the door while I go in. The sight of Ari lying on the bed shatters me. Her lips are almost colourless, her face a scary pale.

She's still unconscious with a nasal cannula fixed to her nose. Several other tubes are connected to her body and I fear touching her in order not to hurt her or disconnect anything.

I'm vaguely aware of the nurse sitting on a standby next to her bed and the slow beeping of the heart rate monitor connected to her. I stare at her for a long time and the only coherent thought I can make out is that Tiffany is right. She has very little time left.