A Shift in the Air

The next morning, Samantha arrived on campus earlier than usual. The crisp autumn air brushed against her skin, carrying the scent of fallen leaves and damp earth, but she barely noticed. Her mind was preoccupied—fixated on one thing.

The boy.

Had anyone checked on him? Was he okay? The uncertainty gnawed at her.

Without wasting another second, she pulled out her phone and quickly dialed Jake. The phone rang a few times before a groggy voice picked up—Hello.  His heart was guessing why she was calling.

 "Jake, good morning. Where are you?" Not bothering with pleasantries, she asked the moment he answered. 

There was a slight pause before Jake sighed into the receiver. "Morning… I’m still in my hostel. What’s up?"

Samantha didn’t hesitate. "Have you heard from the boy this morning?"

Jake frowned, rubbing his eyes as he tried to shake off his lingering drowsiness. "No… I haven’t heard from him."

Her heart sank a little, disappointment creeping in. She had hoped Jake would have some answers—some reassurance this morning—but there was none.

"Can we go check on him?" she asked, her voice steady but urgent.

Jake sighed again, this time more awake, sensing the concern in her tone. "Alright, give me 60 minutes. I’ll meet you by the library."

Samantha nodded, even though he couldn’t see her. She hung up quickly and tightened her grip on her phone, exhaling sharply. The unease settled deeper in her chest.

She needed to find the boy.

She needed to know the condition of the boy.

The message Jake sent to her yesterday stirred a mix of emotions in Samantha—both hope and fear tangled together.

"Hi Samantha, the boy was rushed to the clinic and admitted.  I don’t know why exactly. I was told he lost a lot of blood."

Jake sighed, glancing at his watch. He hadn’t planned on making a detour before classes, but something about Samantha’s urgency made it impossible for him to say no. 

Jake arrived on campus exactly one hour and forty-five minutes after leaving home. As they were about to take off, Samantha was stopped by one of their lecturers, who called her into the office for a brief discussion. The delay was unexpected, and by the time they finally left, the clock read 11:09 AM. They made their way to the small clinic near campus, stepping into the quiet lobby, a nurse passed by, and Samantha approached her immediately.

Her voice was steady but urgent. "Excuse me, the boy who was here yesterday—where is he?"

The nurse exchanged a glance with her colleague before responding, "He was discharged earlier this morning."

Samantha blinked, momentarily thrown off. "Already?" she muttered under her breath. That didn’t make sense. How could he have been released so soon after such a serious incident? Hope it wasn’t a transfer?

Still unsettled, she asked, Please, can I see the doctor? They were directed to the doctor’s office. As they entered, Samantha wasted no time.

"Doctor, can you tell me about the boy who was stabbed and rushed in yesterday? How was he before he left?" Samantha’s voice was firm, laced with worry she couldn’t shake.

The doctor barely looked up from his notes, Are you one of his relatives or just a friend?"

''Never mind, ma.'' Samantha answers, "As you can see, he’s not here. He was discharged. If he had left, that means he’s fine now." The doctor's tone was flat and uninterested.

Samantha felt relieved hearing that from the doctor.

Jake, however, seemed less bothered ever since the nurse had assured them. As they stepped out of the office, he glanced at Samantha, offering a shrug. "It’s clear now he’s okay, right?" His voice was light, an attempt to reassure her more.

Samantha didn’t answer right away. She kept her gaze fixed ahead, her mind running through the possibilities. Was the doctor telling the full truth? Had the boy truly recovered enough to leave? Or had he been sent away for reasons she didn’t yet understand? But anyway, she had no choice but to believe.

As Samantha got to the reception, she spotted her father standing just a few feet away. His face was tight with panic, his movements stiff and uncertain, like he was caught in a storm of emotions. Shock, worry, and hesitation all mixed in his expression, gripping him as if he wasn’t sure what to do next.

"Dad!" she called out, her voice filled with shock and concern.

At the sound of her voice, he turned abruptly, his eyes widening. He looked almost surprised; he hadn’t expected to see her in the clinic as well. A flicker of unease crossed his face, as if he were wondering who had told her he brought her mother here..

Samantha’s curiosity deepened as she stepped closer. "What are you doing here?" she asked, searching his face for answers. The only thing she could suspect was her mother.

"Your mum… she asked me to bring her here," he explained, his voice weary. "Her friend works at this hospital too."

Samantha’s chest tightened. Her mother—here? At the hospital? The realization settled in, pressing into her like a weight she wasn’t ready to carry.

---

Samantha’s heart pounded as she watched her father’s face closely, searching for any hint of bad news. Her breath hitched, and a lump formed in her throat.

"What happened?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Her father gave a reassuring smile, his eyes soft but filled with exhaustion. "Nothing to worry about, my dear. She’s fine."

Even with his words, Samantha found it hard to breathe normally. She wanted to believe him, wanted to trust that everything was under control—but doubt lingered in her chest.

Her father sighed and ran his fingers gently through her hair, a comforting gesture from when she was younger. "Her friend heard about her condition and decided to help."

Samantha stared at him, trying to process the words. "But Dad… you look worried."

He hesitated, then forced a small smile. "Nothing, dear. I was just carried away with the pressure of life, but it's fine, my dear." His voice was calm, but she could see the weight behind his eyes, the exhaustion deep within his frame.

Something about the way he spoke unsettled her, making her feel like there was more he wasn’t telling her. But for now, she remained quiet, observing the silent storm within him.

Her mother is here in this hospital. Her father had assured her that everything was fine, yet doubt clung to Samantha’s heart.

No, she hesitated. She knew how men had a way of masking their emotions and controlling their fear and anxiety as if nothing bad was happening, especially in cases like this. She had seen her father do it before—brushing off worries, pretending things weren’t as serious as they truly were.

She needed to see her mother herself.

"Please, where is she? Can I see her?" she asked, her voice steady but layered with concern. She needed to confirm her father’s reassurance; she needed proof that things were really under control.

Her father gave a small nod, sensing her unease. "Yes, of course. Let me take you to her."

Without hesitation, Samantha followed him, leaving Jake behind, her pulse quickening with each step. She wasn’t sure what she would find behind those hospital doors—but she had to know.