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35

MOST DAYS, I HATE my jobs. But today, my yard work job provides a welcome distraction. Here, I can think about anything else besides what happened last night. My boss, Ricky, is normally super thorough, but today he seems oddly relaxed. He sits on the tailgate of his truck, eating a sandwich while I lean against the rake, sipping some water.

My phone rings and I pull it out of my pocket. The number is unfamiliar, but I answer anyway.

"Hello?"

"Is this Atlas Jameson?"

"Yes. May I ask whom I'm speaking to?"

The man clears his throat. "This is Officer Parks with the Ellis County Police Department. I'm calling to inform you that Ophelia Maddox has been in an accident."

My heart goes cold. I can't lose her, too.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Ophelia has no emergency contacts listed, and you were the last person she had an incoming call from. We've tried to contact her father, but he isn't answering."

"He's at work and can't have his phone on his person. What hospital is she at?"

Ricky glances over at me curiously. Officer Parks says, "North Baptist. I am unaware of her condition. The other person involved walked away from the scene unharmed, but they've been taken into custody for questioning as it appears they may have been under the influence of something."

"Thank you, Officer. I will go see her as soon as I can get away. I appreciate the call."

"Yes, sir. I do hope your friend recovers. Stay safe out there."

Ice courses through my veins at the thought that Ophelia isn't okay. I'm frozen in place, unsure of what to do. Unsure if Ricky will be okay with me leaving before my shift is over.

Ricky has approached now. "Go on. I can finish here. I overheard enough to know it's important."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. Who is it?"

"My friend I've just recently reconnected with. We were best friends as kids. She's been in an accident."

He takes the rake from my hand. "Go see her. She needs you."

I don't let him tell me again. I thank him and run to my truck. I put the address of the hospital into my phone, send a quick text to Carter, and start driving. Time suddenly seems to be moving achingly slowly. I need to know she's okay.

I can't lose her now.

If the dream had let us wake up together… would this have happened? I shake my head. I can't think like that. I don't know why we didn't all wake up in the same room, though, since we were all in the same dream.

Forty-five minutes later, I arrive at the hospital. It's busy, the parking lot nearly full. I park and rush inside to the front desk. The receptionist looks calm, despite the air of urgency all around her.

"I'm here to see a patient who was just admitted."

"Your name?"

"Atlas Jameson."

The receptionist types something on the computer. "Name of the patient?"

"Ophelia Maddox."

"How are you related?"

"I'm a friend."

The receptionist frowns. "Sorry, but only next of kin can go see any patient immediately."

"The police called me. They couldn't get ahold of her dad, and it's not likely they will within the next twelve hours. I'm who they called, and if you don't believe me, I can show you the call log on my phone."

The receptionist looks uncertain, but she types some more things into the computer. I hold my phone out to her, hoping they will know that this number belongs to an officer. The receptionist types some more, and the seconds stretch on agonizingly.

Every moment I waste here at the front desk is a moment Ophelia is alone.

The receptionist glances around, then back at me. "Room 220B. She's listed as unconscious, in critical condition. I didn't let you get by if you're asked."

"Thank you," I say.

Critical condition.

I rush towards the elevators, reading signs to guide me to the right place.I find the room after some wrong turns, and find I'm not the only one waiting outside.

There's a girl with pink hair sitting in a chair outside the room. The girl from the café. She must be friends with Ophelia. She looks up, seeming unsurprised to see me standing there. Her bright blue eyes are rimmed with tears.

"How is she?" I ask.

The girl shakes her head. "The doctors won't let me in. They said I'm not an emergency contact or relative."

"An officer called me."

A nurse exits the door and looks right at me. She frowns. "You said an officer called you? Atlas Jameson?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Pink Hair looks at me. "She'll be happy to know you're here. But why didn't they contact her dad?"

"I was the last person she spoke to on the phone, about twenty minutes before the accident. Her dad hasn't answered any of the calls yet."

Pink Hair pushes up from the chair. "Please take care of her."

"Of course."

"I'm Reya, Ophelia's best friend. I've heard all about you, Atlas Jameson. Ophelia has told me everything."

Everything? I can't tell if that means she knows about the dreams, or that she knows Ophelia and I have been talking again after all these years.

I glance at the nurse, who is waiting for meby the door. "When you're ready, Mr. Jameson, you can enter the room."

I nod once, then trail my eyes back to Reya. "I don't know what Ophelia has told you. But she means the world to me. And I'm grateful she's let me back in her life. I promise you; I will take care of her. I can't… I can't lose her again."

The words slice my heart. Waking up next to her, saving her from drowning, seeing her in the forest with the black butterflies… It meant everything to me. But now, she lies here in this hospital fighting for her life. And the idea that I could lose her for good, just when we've started to be friends again is tearing me up inside.

Reya still seems hesitant. I can't blame her for not trusting me. But she waves me off. "Go see her. Then you can tell me what's going on."

I don't wait for her to change her mind. I enter the room. The only sound accompanying my steps is the beeping of monitors.

Ophelia looks barely alive. Her skin is ashen. A purple bruise mars her jaw. There are IVs and tubes attached to her arms. One is attached to her left pointer finger. A mask is over her nose and mouth, helping her breathe.

Despite all of this, the sound of the machines beeping tells me she's alive.

The nurse returns. "We still cannot get ahold of her father. She's in a coma. And we're not sure she'll come out of it. There doesn't appear to be head trauma, but her heart is weak."

My breath hitches in my throat. "I'll see if I can get ahold of her dad. Until he's aware, I would like to stay here."

The nurse nods. "Visiting hours end at 9 p.m., but you can stay past that, as her emergency contact."

I don't say I wasn't an emergency contact. I was just a chance call the officer hoped would bring answers.

I take a seat next to the bed, scooting the chair closer. I take Ophelia's hand, the one that's untouched by cords and wires. "I know you're probably scared," I say softly. "But please fight. I can't…" I exhale, feeling my resolve slowly wane. "I can't lose you, Ophelia."

I close my eyes, resting my head on the bed next to her hand. "Don't leave me."

After some time, I try to call her dad. But there's no response. Needing to stretch my legs and get some air, I wander back out into the hall. Reya looks up, her eyes full of questions, so I fill her in on what's going on. She doesn't seem thrilled when I go back into the room.

I text Carter more information, as well as the location of the hospital.

As day shifts into night, I take a seat on the chair again, resting my eyes. The nurses have come in many times, checking Ophelia's vitals. Checking for any sign of life.

When the visiting hours end, I don't leave. I can't leave her like this.

To my own detriment, I fall asleep on the chair.

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