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ALEXIS

12 HOURS LATER

T aking a breather in the nurse’s lounge, I sat in a chair around one of our tables, resting my tired feet on another. It’s been a long, hard shift; we lost two of our pediatric patients today, and there was a heavy cloud of sadness in the children’s wing.

Cracking open my third energy drink of the day, I took a few sips, reflecting on this morning.

Our board meeting was a grand success.

Hope Center welcomed five new investors to our Board of Directors, and their values, ideas, and plans for Hope Center’s future aligned perfectly with our visions. Dom, Erik, Aaron, Sebastian, and Emerson Davis are brothers from Colorado that invest in medical facilities that are pushing to improve their research and treatment capabilities for cancer patients.

Since Hope Center is a mostly a non-profit center, we rely heavily on investors and donations. Before the Davis brothers, we’ve been able to make treatment for our pediatric patients free for the families, but, unfortunately, we haven’t been able to fully offer that for our adult patients. Instead, we distribute any surplus funds as reimbursement through a scholarship program. We are the only cancer treatment center in Southern California that is run this way, and being a part of it has been life changing.

With the Davis Brothers generously donating ten million dollars, we will be able to be rid of our scholarship program, and be one hundred percent not for profit.

Along with their donation, we will be able to finally expand a part of our building into a wing to increase our capacity for our pediatric patients. These tiny superheroes are the reason I became a nurse; they are the strongest people you’ll ever meet, and I soaked up that energy like a sponge. The only person I knew that could rival their strength was my Amara.

Amara and I met two years ago at a medical conference for new technology and treatment options that were being researched specifically for skin cancer patients. I worked for a dermatologist as an RN, but wanted to expand to feel like I could help save lives; especially children.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been able to help spot potential life-threatening skin conditions and cancers on patients, but it just wasn’t for me; I wanted to be a part of something bigger…

I still remember the moment our eyes met at the conference; it felt as if there was some invisible, magnetic force drawing us together. She was perfection, utter perfection; an angel in the crowd. She wore a white blouse, tucked into a red wine colored pencil skirt. Her long, black hair fell like silk around her face, a stark contrast to the white of her blouse… and those eyes… Fuck. Deep green emeralds, so full of emotion and empathy.

If I didn’t believe in soulmates, she made me a believer the moment she smiled at me.

We spent hours talking about how she and her childhood best friend, Mark Bailey, founded Hope Center.

She was also one of the best financial directors on the west coast; helping manage multiple Fortune 500 companies, and has helped every one of them increase their earnings significantly.

The sound of my work phone clipped onto the pocket of my scrubs pulled me out of my thoughts.

Glancing at the screen, I saw a missed call from Amara, which was strange. My phone only rang twice and hung up, which isn’t like her at all. Immediately dialing her desk phone, I looked up at the clock on the wall; it was almost eight in the evening. We both always left at 8:30, so she was probably seeing if I was ready to wrap up my day.

Her desk phone went to voicemail immediately.

Trying to swallow the lump of anxiety and worry in my throat, I jumped out of my chair, making my way to the elevator.

While I waited impatiently for it to arrive, I turned to the nurse’s station behind me when I heard Mark talking with one nurse, Emily, his wife.

“Hey, Mark, have you heard from Amara recently?” I asked, rapidly pushing the call button for the elevator again.

“No, not in a few hours. I know she had a meeting with Erik and Dom at six, but that’s all I know. Is everything alright?” he asked, concerned.

“Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing. She called and hung up after two rings. I’ll go peek in on her and make sure she didn’t fall asleep on the job.” I joked, forcing a chuckle and a smile, before turning back to face the elevator.

Fuck this.

With shaking hands, I walked towards the door for the stairs and tore it open, trying not to draw too much attention. Once inside the stairwell, I took a deep breath and started running up the stairs. As I ascended the stairwell, I pulled out my phone, unlocking the screen, preparing to call for help.

Something didn’t feel right… Something was wrong.

Finally, I pushed open the door to the sixth floor where the executive offices were located. Darting down towards the end of the hall, Amara’s office door came into view. The faint sound of a door closing somewhere behind me made the hair on the back of my neck stand up, and a wave of anxiety made me shiver.

My shaky hand hovered over Amara’s doorknob, petrified of what I would find. But if she was hurt… I needed to go now.

Pulling the door open, my worst fears came to life right before my eyes.

My beautiful Amara was slumped over her desk, a pool of blood rapidly growing beneath her head.

“Amara!”

I ran to her side, trying to assess what had happened. She was barely breathing, gurgling, and going pale. Pressing the emergency call button on my phone, I tossed it onto the corner of her desk as it rang, scooping her blood-soaked hair out of her face.

“Get the fuck up here! I need a doctor in Amara’s office NOW!” I screamed into the speakerphone, kneeling next to Amara to find the source of her bleeding.

Her mouth was moving, but she couldn’t speak, and she couldn’t breathe. Finally, I could see the cause; her throat had been cut.

Not just cut… It looked as if she was stabbed, and it was ripped out of her neck.

“Amara, oh my god…” I sobbed, immediately putting pressure on her neck.

Weakly, she opened her eyes to look at me, trying to speak.

“Shh, baby. Don’t try; it’s okay, I’m here. I’ve got you.”

Her blood continued to fall from her wound, completely soaking my hands.

“Amara, baby… I need to intubate you. I need you to breathe…” I was panicking, wondering what the fuck was taking someone so long to get here. “Where the fuck are they?!” I cried out, desperately scanning the room for anything I could use to help her breathe.

My eyes found her desk phone and noticed the cord was cut.

What…?

With a weak, shaky hand, Amara reached for my arm, trying to stroke my skin with a blood-covered finger. Her lips were turning blue, and I knew I was losing her.

“Alexis?!” I could hear Dr. Sanchez, one of the trauma surgeons, called out as his footsteps rushed towards us.

“In here! Hurry the fuck up! She’s aspirating!”

Locking eyes with my fiancée, I saw her perfect emeralds dimming under the harsh office lights. She reached her trembling hand towards her computer monitor, pointing to a stick in her USB drive: her hidden camera in her office. Tearing the drive out of the monitor, I shoved it in the pocket of my scrubs, and returned to keeping pressure with both hands, meeting her dimming gaze again.

Dr. Sanchez rushed in to assist, and everything became a blur as Amara mouthed “I love you” before closing her eyes for the last time, a single tear falling down her bloody cheek, leaving behind a clean trail through the crimson on her skin.

“Amara?! Amara! Wake up, baby! Please, wake up!” I sobbed as Dr. Sanchez checked for a pulse on her wrist.

“Alexis…”

“No, no, no, no, no…”

“Alexis, she?—”

“No! Fucking help me! She’s just unconscious! She needs… she needs… intubation and… and…”

The world around me seemed to move in slow motion as at least ten other people rushed into the room. All I could do was cling to Amara’s hand, interlacing our fingers. Her engagement ring grazed my skin as our fingers linked, and before they took me away from her, I slipped it off her finger and onto my right ring finger.

“Alexis…” Dr. Sanchez’s powerful arms surrounded me, pulling me from Amara, her bloody hand sliding out of my grip. “The police are here, Alexis; they need to do their thing. I promise you, we’ll take care of Amara.”

I could barely comprehend what he was saying as he guided me away from her. Stealing one more glance at my soulmate before turning out of the doorway with Dr. Sanchez, I knew that in that moment, that my soul died with hers.

“Let’s get you some privacy and some fresh clothes; come.” Dr. Sanchez gently guided me down the hall and into the elevator to travel one floor down to the oncology floor.

The elevator opened to an empty nurse’s station as we walked into the first room to the left of the elevator.

“Take a breather here; I’ll go find you a fresh pair of scrubs,” Dr. Sanchez said gently, giving my shoulder a comforting squeeze. All I could do was sit on the edge of the bed, letting my feet hang.

Amara…