Chapter 8

Jason

I got home, freshened up, took out a pair of trousers and a shirt, quickly brushed out my hair, and I just feel everything is fine with Clara.

I didn’t remember grabbing my keys or shutting the door behind me; I only remembered the blur of streetlights streaking past my hands gripping the steering wheel as if it were the only thing keeping me grounded.

By the time I got to the hospital, the building looked cold and unforgiving, its bright lights harsh against the darkness outside.

I jumped out of my car, I ran through the entrance, my breath uneven, my heart pounding louder than the echo of my footsteps on the tiled floor.

The smell of antiseptic filled my lungs as I looked at faces, desperate for something familiar. I went through the corridor near a partially closed door marked Emergency Ward, I saw a young lady standing there with one hand on the door handle, her body angled as if she were trying to shut the world out.

Mirabella face looked pale, her eyes red and glossy and for a brief moment she didn’t notice me

I called out for help to know my whereabouts and how I can find Clara as well, unknowing to me that I was on the right track.

“Hi Jason, she said, her voice trembling. I was the one who called you.”

“Oh, I see, nice meeting you,” I said.

I stepped closer, glancing past her toward the door, as if I could see Clara through it.

“What happened?” I asked, my words rushed and uneven. “What’s the problem?”

Mirabella swallowed hard, her fingers tightening around the handle as though she needed its support. “I called you to know what happened,” she said, shaking her head slowly. “I don’t know… I don’t know exactly what happened to Clara. All of a sudden, she just passed out.”

The words hung between us, heavy and terrifying. I felt my stomach drop, my mind racing through a thousand possibilities, none of them good.

I looked at Mirabella again, really looked at her this time, and saw how shaken she was, how the attempt to close the door wasn’t just about hospital protocol, it was about fear, about holding herself together.

I listened to Mirabella, but her words barely reached me. My thoughts were fixed on the image of Clara collapsing, on the fear that had followed me all the way to the hospital.

I took a slow breath, trying to keep my voice steady despite the storm inside me.

“I don’t know what happened,” I said at last, my eyes searching Mirabella’s face, “but I think I need to see her to know how she is feeling.”

Mirabella shook her head immediately, stepping closer to the door as if guarding it. “No, Jason. You’re not going in there,” she insisted. “The doctors are with her. You need to stay out here.”

I clenched my fists. Every instinct in me rebelled against her refusal. Standing in the hallway, separated from Clara by nothing but a closed door, felt unbearable. “Mirabella, please,” I said, my voice tightening. “I just need to see her. Just for a moment.”

“I said you will not see Clara,” she replied firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Something snapped inside me, not anger, but fear. Before Mirabella could stop me, I reached out and pushed the door open.

It swung inward, and I stepped into the room without hesitation. The bright lights stung my eyes, and the steady beeping of machines filled the silence.

Clara lay on the bed, motionless. Her skin looked pale against the white sheets, her arm resting limply by her side with tubes attached. My heart dropped.

I took a step closer, my breath catching in my throat as I took in the sight of her, vulnerable and still. In that moment, everything else disappeared; all that mattered was that she was there, and I was finally seeing her.

Footsteps hurried in behind me.

“Didn’t I ask you not to go in?” Mirabella said sharply as she followed me into the room. Her voice carried a mix of frustration and worry as she looked from me to Clara.

I turned slightly, my expression strained but resolute. “I had to,” I said quietly. “I needed to know how she was.”

The room grew tense as we stood together beside the bed, the soft sounds of medical equipment filling the space between us.

Despite Mirabella’s anger, the fear we shared was the same, and for a brief moment, neither of us spoke both silently hoping that Clara would open her eyes

At that point, the tension in the room shifted. The low, hurried voices of Mirabella and me, mixed with the steady beeping of the machines, stirred something within Clara.

Clara's fingers twitched slightly against the sheets, and then she let out a faint breath. Slowly, as if waking from a deep and heavy sleep, she began to move. Her eyelids fluttered, struggling to open, and a soft groan escaped her lips.

Mirabella noticed first. “Clara?” she said, stepping closer to the bed. “Can you hear me?”

Clara turned her head weakly toward the sound of Mirabella’s voice. “Mirabella…” Clara murmured.

Her eyes narrowed slightly as she tried to focus. “Who was that?” she asked, her voice thin and confused.

Clara blinked again, forcing her eyes open wider. The bright hospital lights made her wince, but then her gaze shifted past Mirabella and landed on me.

For a brief second, she froze. Her eyes widened, shock flashing across her tired face as she stared at him, trying to make sense of what she was seeing.

“Jason?” Clara said softly, disbelief in her tone. “What are you doing here?”

I stepped forward instinctively, relief flooding my face at the sound of her voice. Before I could answer, Mirabella spoke.

“I’m the one who called him,” Mirabella said gently. “I told him everything.”

Clara let out a small sigh, her shoulders relaxing slightly. “Ohhh,” Clara murmured. “That’s fine.” She paused, then looked from Mirabella back to me, her expression suddenly serious. “Please… can you give us a few minutes? I want to speak with him.”

Mirabella hesitated for a moment, studying Clara’s face, then nodded her head slowly. “Okay,” she said softly.

Mirabella cast a glance at me, then turned and walked toward the door. As it closed quietly behind her, the room fell into a calm, fragile silence.

I remained standing beside the bed, my heart racing, while Clara watched him closely.