Chapter 2 - THE STORAGE UNIT

“Give me the hospital papers!” I screamed, lunging across the dining room table.

Diane yanked the folder back, a manic gleam in her eyes. “It’s already done, Rebecca! By the time you drive to St. Jude’s, his heart will be stopped. And without Thomas, there is no one left to contest the estate!”

Before I could grab her, Janet moved.

She crossed the room in three strides, grabbed Diane by the collar of her expensive silk blouse, and slammed her hard against the floral wallpaper.

“Listen to me, you selfish monster,” Janet hissed, pressing her forearm against Diane’s collarbone. “You are going to call that hospital right now, and you are going to revoke that order. Or I swear to God, I won’t need the police to make you pay for my husband.”

Diane gasped for air, her eyes wide with genuine terror. But she stubbornly shook her head. “I… I can’t. The doctor said the forms were final once submitted. Only Mom’s signature could override it, and she’s dead!”

“Then I’m going,” I said. I grabbed the folder from the floor where it had dropped.

“Take my car,” Janet said without turning around, pinning Diane in place. “I’ll stay here and make sure your sister doesn’t try to burn the rest of this evidence. I’m calling the police.”

I ran out the front door, leaving the house behind.

Leo was awake in the backseat, clutching the travel pillow. His eyes were wide with fear.

“Are we going to find my dad?” he asked as I threw the car into reverse.

“Yes, baby,” I promised, my hands gripping the steering wheel so hard my knuckles popped. “We’re going to get him right now.”

St. Jude’s Long-Term Care was twenty minutes away if you drove the speed limit. I made it in ten. I ran every red light, praying the police wouldn’t pull me over, praying I wouldn’t be too late.

At 11:40 PM, I slammed the brakes in front of the hospital’s emergency entrance. I unbuckled Leo and grabbed his hand. We sprinted through the automatic sliding doors into the sterile, glaringly bright lobby.

“John Doe!” I yelled at the startled receptionist. “Bed 4! Long-Term Care! Where is he?”

“Ma’am, visiting hours are over,” the nurse started to say.

“My sister signed a DNR to take him off life support!” I cried, slamming the paperwork onto the desk. “His name is Thomas Collins! I am his sister, and this is his son! You cannot turn those machines off!”

The nurse’s face paled as she looked at the name on the forms. “Ward C. Third floor. The doctors are in there now.”

I didn’t wait for the elevator. I dragged Leo up three flights of stairs, my lungs burning, my legs shaking.

We burst through the double doors of Ward C.

At the end of the hall, outside Room 4, a doctor and a nurse were standing near a medical cart. The doctor was reaching for a clipboard.

“Stop!” I screamed, echoing down the quiet corridor.

The doctor turned, alarmed.

I ran down the hall and threw myself between him and the door. Through the narrow glass window, I could see a man lying in the bed. He was skeletal, his skin pale and sunken, tubes snaking from his mouth and arms.

But I knew him. Even after nineteen years, I knew my brother.

“You can’t do this,” I gasped, tears streaming down my face. “He’s my brother. We revoke the order.”

The doctor looked at me sympathetically. “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but Diane Collins is the legal proxy. The patient has been unresponsive for four years. His liver failed. His brain activity is minimal. Turning off the machines is a mercy.”

“He has a son,” I choked out, pulling Leo in front of me.

Leo stared through the glass window, his little hands pressing against the pane. “Dad?” he whispered.

The doctor sighed heavily. “I’ll give you five minutes to say goodbye. But by law, I have to proceed.”

My heart shattered. I had found him, only to lose him again.

I opened the door, and Leo ran to the side of the bed. He climbed up onto a chair and took Thomas’s frail, cold hand.

“I’m here, Dad,” Leo cried, resting his head on Thomas’s chest. “Grandma sent them to get me. I’m safe.”

I stood at the foot of the bed, sobbing into my hands.

And then, a sound cut through the steady, rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor.

It was a sharp, jagged gasp of air.

I looked up.