Page 21

21

ALISSA

I wake up to the gentle caress of sunlight coming through my window.

For a moment, all is peaceful.

I spent the evening in the throes of passion with a beautiful man who brought me to new heights of pleasure. A man who rescued me from a gang of goons in the alleyway outside of Aces Underground.

A man…who is no longer in the bed beside me.

I squint at the clock on my nightstand. Eight a.m. I close my eyes. My shift at the hospital doesn’t start until ten today. I’ve got some time to myself this morning.

Maddox probably had to leave to open his shop. I’m not sure when his opening hours are, or if he’s even open on a Sunday.

Maybe he left the second I fell asleep. This was only our second date, after all. Sleeping over for the first time is a big step.

I stretch my arms over my head and yawn. I need some coffee.

Yes, I know we Brits are supposed to enjoy tea over coffee, but I’ve assimilated to the ways of the Yanks. Though I still love tea in the afternoon and evening.

I get out of bed, grab a fuzzy pink robe from a hook hanging by my bedroom door, and pad out to the kitchen. I’m about to start a pot of coffee when I see a note resting on top of the machine.

Alissa—

Thanks for a great evening. Wish I could have stayed longer, but I have to open the shop. Please text me when you get up. I’d love to see you again, maybe somewhere new? Let me know.

Best, Maddox

Well, there’s all my questions answered. I put the pot of coffee on and look for my phone.

Shit. It’s still dead, still in my purse. I never plugged it in last night. I was a little preoccupied with Maddox’s beautiful cock.

No regrets there.

I grab my phone out of my purse and see a tiny blue slip of paper.

Oh, my God.

The note from Seven.

It’s probably nothing, like Maddox said. She probably wrote down the order. Or she didn’t write it at all and it just got affixed to my glass by mistake.

Still, though.

I plug in my phone and grab my laptop out of my bedroom, opening it and pulling up Google.

The handwriting is messy so I can’t quite make out what all the words are. I type into Google “Asian languages that use the Latin alphabet.”

The search engine’s automatic AI gives me the answer right away. Indonesian, Malay, Tagalog, and Vietnamese all use the same alphabet as English.

If I could make out the letters and marks on the note, I would just type it into Google Translate. But I can’t quite do it.

Dinah is Vietnamese. Her parents brought her here when she was very young, and she grew up speaking both her native language and English.

If this is Vietnamese, maybe she can help make it out.

I smirk. Dinah will look up at me with sarcastic raised eyebrows, probably telling me that the mysterious note attached to my glass says something like “dirty martini.”

And we’ll have a good laugh about it.

* * *

I arrive at the hospital ten minutes before my shift. I head to the ladies’ changing room to get into a fresh pair of scrubs.

I pocket the note from Seven and head to the nurse’s station, placing my purse on the counter.

I wave at the head nurse, Janice. “Is Dinah around?”

She scrunches her forehead. “No. She was just here. Probably just went to the bathroom. I?—”

She’s interrupted by a piercing alarm coming from one of the rooms on the ward. A patient is flatlining.

Janice jumps to her feet, and I look around, trying to figure out which room the noise is emitting from.

Oh, my God. It’s room 1832. Carol and Lou’s room.

I run toward it. Dr. O’Rourke rushes in, his face grave. I take in the room. Carol’s eyes are wide and her face is flushed. She’s not screaming. She doesn’t have enough lung power.

Lou is the one flatlining.

Dr. O’Rourke nods at me. “Alissa. Start CPR. I’ll prep the defibrillator.”

“Yes, doctor.” I head over to Lou and administer a few chest compressions, pushing down over the base of his sternum about two inches each time.

Dr. O’Rourke, meanwhile, begins charging the defib. He glances over to Janice, who is standing in the doorway. “Janice, get a milligram of epinephrine into his bloodstream. Follow it up a flush of twenty CC’s of saline.”

Janice starts attending to Lou’s IV while I continue chest compressions.

I glance at the heart monitor. “He’s still flatlining, doctor.”

I look down at Lou’s lifeless body. Come on, Lou , I beg him in my mind. You have to live. You and Carol need each other.

Dr. O’Rourke places the defibrillator’s electrodes on Lou’s chest, one below his right shoulder and the other at the left side of his waist.

“Clear!” he calls out.

Lou’s body jolts. Carol gasps.

I look at the heart monitor. “No heartbeat, doctor.”

“Okay, one more time,” Dr. O’Rourke says, charging the defibrillator again. “Janice, is the epinephrine getting into him?”

“Yes, doctor,” Janice replies. “The saline as well.”

“Good. Alissa, continue CPR.”

I do as I’m instructed, continuing to plead internally with each press into Lou’s chest, Don’t die, Lou. Carol needs you. We all need you.

Dr. O’Rourke once more places the electrodes over Lou’s chest.

“Clear!”

Lou’s body jolts again from the shock, and then, thankfully, his heart monitor starts to beep steadily again.

Dr. O’Rouke removes the defibrillator from Lou’s chest and places it back on its wall mount. He faces me and Janice, wiping the sweat from his brow. “I’ve got sinus. Good work, ladies.”

I look over at Carol. “He’s going to be okay, Carol. You both are going to be.”

She nods, but her eyes are still wide.

Damn. Their pact. One more month of waiting for an organ donor, and then they’re going to go off life support and enter hospice.

If Lou goes into heart failure after that, he’ll have a DNR, and we won’t be allowed to revive him.

He and Carol both signed the forms that Dr. O’Rourke prepared for them, stating when they would be officially rejecting further treatment. Of course, they can always recant.

They’re both in their late seventies. I’ve seen this in the hospital before. People at that age have a different way of thinking about the end of the lives. They’re more comfortable with the prospect. No one wants to die, of course, but we’re not given any other options, so it’s easier to accept it gracefully rather than with resistance.

But Lou and Carol both have more life to live. I can feel it. I’ve gotten to know them both over the few weeks they’ve been in the hospital together. They both have young grandkids that they deserve to see grow up. They have the same blood type, so one donor could potentially provide a heart for Lou and lungs for Carol. But we haven’t found a match for them yet.

“Let’s wheel Lou to the ICU until we’re absolutely sure he’s stable.”

“But doctor…” I glance toward Carol.

Carol raises a hand, waving me away. She wants what’s best for Lou. She’ll miss him while he’s in the ICU, but she wants to make sure that he’s in good shape before returning to the room.

I pat her hand. “I’ll make sure Lou is back in here once we’re sure he’s stable. We won’t bring anyone else in here in the meantime.”

“Thank you, dear.”

Janice carts Lou away to the ICU, and, with a final glance to Carol, I leave her alone in her room.

“Alissa!”

I look up and see Dinah running down the hall. She runs up to me and gives me a hug.

“I heard about Lou. Is he going to be okay?”

I nod. “Yeah. He flatlined, but we brought him back. Janice is taking him to the ICU for observation.”

Dinah looks over to the closed door of Room 1832. “But won’t Carol be lonely?”

I shake my head. “She’s a big girl. I already promised her we’d bring Lou back as soon as he’s ready.” I look back over at my nurse’s station, where my purse is still sitting on the counter.

God, I just left it there. Luckily no one picked it up.

Normally I’d leave it in my locker, but I want to ask Dinah about that note.

I look back at her. “Do you have a second?”

She cocks her head. “Yeah. As long as it’s a literal second.”

“Well, fifteen seconds then.”

She grins. “I think I can manage that.”

I lead her over to the nurses counter and pull the tiny blue sticky note out of my bag. “Is this Vietnamese?”

She looks at the note, her eyebrows rising. “Where did you get this?”

“I went back to that club last night with Maddox. This was attached to my drink. Could have been a mistake, attached by accident.” I move my weight from one leg to the other. For some reason, my stomach is fluttering with nerves. “Is it just a drink order?”

She shakes her head. “No, it’s not that.” She scratches the back of her neck. “And you received this from a server?”

“I’m not sure if I received it or if it just made its way to me. All I know is that it was attached to my drink.”

Dinah swallows, looking back at the note. “Well, it is Vietnamese. The handwriting is a little scratchy, and one of the words is misspelled, but it’s pretty clear what the note is saying.”

My heart starts to race. “What does it say?”

Dinah stares at me, her eyes wide. “ Please help me. ”