Maisie tried not to cry. It would've been embarrassing in front of the housekeepers. "She's not dead, right? Please tell me she's not dead!" She must've yelled that because the housekeepers rotated their heads.
Natacha had frozen and stared helplessly at her.
Dr. Alexander, like any doctor, remained calm. "No, she's not. However, she broke her prosthetic and hit her head. She's in the ICU until we get the CT results."
"Oh God!" Not Feya! She had been through so much already! What on Earth happened? "Was it a car crash?"
"No. According to the girl who called it in, she fell through a bridge. She'll be okay, ma'am. We merely need those CT results."
A tear dripped down Maisie's cheek. She quickly stood and shoved her chair in. "I'm heading over there right now. Orlando Regional, you said?"
"Yes, ma'am. We'll take good care of her until you arrive. Tell the Emergency Room that Dr. Alexander sent you. I'm sorry again." With those words, he hung up.
Maisie sobbed. Why? Why did the world hate her so much?
Natacha gently took her hand. "What happened?"
"Feya—she had an accident! She's in the ICU! Natacha, please." Maisie hiccupped. She felt like she would Code V on her.
"Oh, sweetie!" Natacha also stood. "Go. I'll let Han, Jadis, and Andy know."
"But the training!"
"Friend's more important. Now, clock out. That's an order."
"Thank you, Natacha." Maisie hugged her.
"Be careful driving," she added. "Weather bad."
"I will." Maisie released her and jogged to the breakroom's cubbies, grabbing her backpack. She nearly broke the time clock, clocking out, and rushed outside to the storm.
This was the day Matthew died all over again.
***
Maisie was grateful that she drove her car to work that day but not thankful that she became caught in standstill traffic on I-4 on her way to Downtown Orlando. According to Waze, a truck hydroplaned and turned over. Emergency vehicles had shut down three lanes of traffic.
Maisie wished she had gone home and grabbed Milo for moral support. She was going to be there for a while and hated it. Feya was in the ICU.
She couldn't handle the stress and called her parents. "Mom, Dad, please!"
"Maisie?" Mrs. Foster sounded bewildered. "What's wrong? Why do you sound like that?"
"Feya had an accident, and I'm stuck in standstill traffic on the way to the hospital. Please."
"An accident?" Mrs. Foster's tone changed to fearful. "What are you talking about?"
"She fell through a bridge. The doctor called me and said she's at Orlando Regional. I'm scared, Mom."
"Dear," she heard her mom say to Mr. Foster, "book us a flight to Orlando immediately. Feya's in the hospital."
That time, Mr. Foster spoke. "What? Maisie, are you okay?"
"I'm fine, but Feya's not. She's in the ICU. The doctor said she's got a head injury and broke her prosthetic."
"We're coming down, May," Mrs. Foster said. "Your dad's looking at Southwest Flights right now. Is Milo with you?"
"He's not, Mom. I got straight on the highway. I can't go anywhere right now with this traffic jam."
Mrs. Foster raised her voice a little—"Jesus, Maisie!"—but calmed herself. "Okay, do you remember what your counselor told you to do?"
Maisie thought for a second. "I do."
"Do those exercises to stay calm," continued Mrs. Foster, "and your dad and I will be there as soon as possible. If you start to have a panic attack, call me immediately."
"Yes, ma'am. Thank you." Maisie had the best mom in the world. The support she and her father gave her after Matthew was unbelievable.
There was a good chance Maisie would meet Feya's parents at the hospital, so she prepared herself until she escaped the traffic jam, starting with her counselor's breathing exercises. They allowed her not to fall subject to a panic attack.
She searched her car and found an old book under the back seat. Maisie finished her lunch and tried to read, but it was challenging.
A break in the weather encouraged a few people to exit their cars in the standstill traffic, stretch, and chat with one another. A family in an RV cooked hot dogs and handed them out before another wave of rain hit.
Maisie was too worried to join the fun. What if Feya died before she even got there? No, no, the doctor said she would, hopefully, be fine, but Maisie's pain was just as powerful as the day she found Matthew.
Finally, after three and a half hours of visiting Hell, she reached the city, passed a couple of lakes, and found Orlando Regional. A few other medical buildings were in the area, but the main one was tall and tan. The impressive architecture included a pattern of all glass sections and very little glass. It looked like something from the future.
Maisie parked across from the ER's waiting room and stepped outside into a mass of palm trees that hovered like bowling pins over her. The evening sun poked out from the scattering clouds above and caused the main building's glass sections to sparkle like diamonds. If only Maisie weren't there because her friend had a freak accident. She bet it had something to do with her leg. Feya should've seen the doctor. She should've seen the damn doctor! Maisie failed to protect Matthew, and now Feya, too.
She rushed through the crosswalk and dove into the ER's waiting room, a large area with a few rows of chairs, pictures on the walls, and a circular Service Desk. Maisie ignored the people waiting in the ER and ran straight to the desk. "Excuse me, excuse me!" she yelled, smacking the bell like she was drunk.
Ring! Ring! Ring!
A woman wearing glasses approached her. "Miss! Miss!" she said, removing the bell before Maisie broke it.
Tears burned behind her eyes. "Ma'am, please! I've been in traffic for three and a half hours in the pouring rain! Please tell me my friend's not dead!"
"Deep breaths, deep breaths." The woman faced her computer. "What's the patient's name?"
Maisie's tears dropped onto the desk, but she attempted to steady her voice. "Feya. Feya Fedora. Dr. Alexander called me. I'm Maisie Claire Foster."
"Feya Fedora." The woman typed on her keyboard, and the computer's glow shimmered over her dark brown eyes. "Ah, yes. The one who fell through the bridge."
Why did she speak with that tone? It was like she found someone falling through a bridge amusing.
She noticed Maisie's offended face and smiled. "Oh. Don't worry, dear—she's fine. We moved her from the ICU to the ward about an hour ago. We're keeping her overnight for observation. If everything looks good in the morning, we'll discharge her tomorrow afternoon."
Oh, thank God. After three hours, Maisie's shoulders relaxed.
The woman came out from behind the computer. "Her parents are on their way, too. Until they get here"—she pointed behind Maisie—"those two will take you to her. Dr. Alexander said you were coming, so they've been patiently waiting here."
"Who?" Maisie turned, and her jaw dropped.
Sitting in one of the waiting room's chairs, with Milo on her lap, was a red-headed, freckled girl who donned Maisie's blue Custodial costume.
Another All-Star Cast Member.
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