[Edward POV]
As Chloe's monitoring room had glass walls, allowing doctors to respond immediately if something was wrong with the patients, I couldn't cast the healing spell on her right away.
Chloe lay motionless, her mouth intubated to assist her breathing. Her life was in danger due to the blunt force trauma to the back of her head. Trixie cried non-stop, only stopping when she fell asleep from exhaustion.
Around midnight., the blue wave—the influx of police officers checking on her—finally died down. They had collected donations for Chloe, filling a bucket with contributions. With no work to keep me occupied, I found myself bored and began counting the money. They had donated $1,200 for her hospital fund, which made me scoff in derision.
The ER was closed to visitors, allowing only close family members inside. I flirted with some nurses in hopes of getting an exception to stay, but Randall and my security had to wait outside.
"Finally, I have a chance," I mumbled as I snuck into the monitoring room after the foot traffic in the ward had lessened.
However, just as I stood in front of the door, several car crash victims were rushed into the emergency room by doctors and nurses, causing the ward to erupt with activity once more.
"Damn it," I muttered, giving up on trying to cure Chloe for now. I waited an hour until the ward returned to its calm state. But just as I walked past the door, it slammed open again, this time admitting gunshot victims from a drug deal gone wrong.
I tried for the third time, and Chloe's blood pressure crashed before I could get to the door. The nurses and doctors got there first, and they spent around an hour getting her out of the danger zone. It was a tough night for the doctors and Chloe too.
Exhausted, I slumped on the metal chair nearby, wanting to wait for another chance when the emergency room doctor, Dr Lauren Bloom, approached Trixie and Chloe's ex-husband who was sitting nearby.
Detective Dan Espinoza immediately became alert when the doctor came and slightly moved his daughter's head from sleeping on his lap and stood up to talk to her.
I couldn't hear the beginning of their conversation, but I caught the last part of what Dr. Lauren said: "...I understand this is difficult to hear. Unfortunately, at this point, it's important to prepare for the possibility of saying goodbye…"
"NO!" Dan shouted, frazzled by the doctor's words. His outburst startled Trixie awake. "You—You need to keep trying!" Dan struggled to hold back his emotions, tears pooling in his eyes as he grabbed the doctor's coat collar, threatening her.
"Sir—" Dr. Lauren widened her eyes. "Please calm down."
I quickly grabbed his arm to prevent the situation from escalating. "Dan, let Dr. Lauren go."
As he turned toward me, I became the target for all his anger. He grabbed my collar with both hands and shouted, "THIS IS ALL YOUR FUCKING FAULT—"
I interjected, my expression cold and I spoke in a low chilling tone. "My fault? Was I the one who made her so fucking bullheaded? And..." I twisted his hand violently behind his back. He winced in pain as his knees buckled to the ground.
"Get your fucking mind together. Your daughter is watching you," I whispered in his ear before pushing him away. He stumbled forward, landing on all fours. As he panted, his mind reset, and he regained his composure. He turned to Trixie, who was watching him with fear in her eyes.
I picked Trixie up into my arms and turned to Dan. "Go wash your face, apologize to Dr. Lauren, and then join us inside the room. Don't worry. Chloe will get through this. She's pretty fucking tough."
Trixie gasped. "You said a bad word."
Flabbergasted, I turned to her. "Your dad did it first."
"Yeah, but you're a kid. Kids shouldn't say bad words," she lectured me.
I was in disbelief. "Adults shouldn't either. And definitely not in front of kids, or to one." My words seemed to prick Dan's guilty conscience.
Ignoring him, I went inside the room and set Trixie down. She moved toward her mother but hesitated, afraid to cross the last 20 centimeters.
Trixie turned to me and asked, "Is my mother dying? Is that why Dad..."
"Nah, she's just asleep," I interjected casually. "If you're worried, you should close your eyes and pray for her."
What I needed was for her to close her eyes for a moment so I could cast the spell. Trixie took some time to collect herself before asking, "Pray for what?"
"For your mom to open her eyes," I added, my tone slightly anxious. Dan could come into the room at any moment, and I really needed Trixie to close her eyes now.
Trixie clasped her hands together but didn't shut her eyes, keeping her gaze fixed on her mother, which made me roll my eyes. I knew she was going through a tough time, but I was desperate.
I gently closed her eyes with my left hand. "Don't peek. It won't work if you peek."
"Not even a little?" she asked in disbelief.
"Yeah," I replied casually, placing my right hand on Chloe's head. As expected, a shiny glow erupted as the spell took effect. Chloe's entire head lit up in a golden hue, and the wound healed at a speed visible to the naked eye.
Trixie seemed to sense the glow but forcibly kept her eyes shut, continuing to pray. The light spilled out of the monitoring room and flowed into the lobby. Some nurses and Dr. Lauren caught a glimpse of it, but it disappeared within seconds, leaving them puzzled about what had just happened.
Trixie peeked with her right eye after the glow disappeared. Her mother was still sleeping on the bed, but her vitals signs and her brain activity had gotten to the normal range. I breathed in relief after I checked the monitors.
I turned to the kid and saw that she was on the brink of crying. "It didn't work!" She cried before she turned to hug me. "Cause you didn't poke her, that's why." I added in a casual admonishing manner.
"What?" Trixie was stunned, and she turned to her mother. "Poke her where?"
"I don't know. You choose." I replied. Trixie was confused, but then, she slowly moved her hand towards Chloe's head, and poked her cheek with her index finger. She poked it multiple times, but Chloe was still unresponsive.
Trixie turned to me angrily and said, "You liar–"
Before she could finish, Chloe abruptly sat up, which made both Trixie and I yelled in horror. I cleared my throat immediately and called for the doctor as Chloe was struggling with the intubation. Dr Lauren was close by and she immediately ran to Chloe.
…
Time passed, and Chloe was moved to a VIP ward after the doctors checked on her and found that she was healed. They ran a few tests in confusion, trying to figure out what had happened, but no tests could explain it. For most of them, it was a miracle.
Oh, and that VIP room? I paid for it. In fact, I paid for the hospital bills too.
Chloe would have to stay in the hospital for a few days for observation before the doctors could release her. Trixie didn't go to school, and Dan took some time off from work to take care of both of them.
While they were talking, I suddenly entered the room. "Dan, can you leave with Trixie?"
Dan looked stunned, but before he could respond, I fixed my gaze on him and said, "I need to talk to her in private."
Trixie looked at me innocently. "Are you going to yell at my mum?"
I smiled and crouched slightly to meet her eye level. "Hmm, yes."
Chloe's eyes widened in surprise, and Dan quickly ushered Trixie out of the room. "Come on, let's get you washed up. You still haven't brushed your teeth."
My smile faded as soon as Trixie was out of earshot. I turned to Chloe and glared at her. "Is there anything you want to say to me?" I said admonishingly.
"Um..." She avoided my gaze, but I grabbed her chin and gently turned her head to face me.
"I told you to bring your partner with you. I told you not to go alone," I said angrily.
Chloe replied, "I was only going to check out the hiding spot—"
"Don't lie to me. People check it by staking out from outside, not by going in." I interjected, cutting off her excuse. "You know, you really shouldn't be a detective if you want to continue behaving like this." I added with a tired sigh.
Chloe looked a bit irritated and defended herself. "You're in no position—"
"When I see your child desperately crying for her mother, I don't care about your position. In fact, I'm going to submit an official request with the judge to change the detective responsible for my community work."
She fell silent, unsure how to respond, and I could tell she knew my words were justified.
"You should get some rest, and hopefully, you'll never return to this job if you don't want to change your attitude. For the sake of your daughter, I really hope you won't. You won't be lucky a second time." I said my piece before leaving the room.
I exited the hospital, picked up my bloodied Audi from the parking lot, and drove back to my seaside villa.
Just as I parked in the driveway and was about to get out, Dr. Linda called me.
"Ed, you didn't forget about the mandatory therapy session, required by the state, with me this evening, right?" she asked coyly. After the punching incident, I was required to attend therapy to work on my issues.
I grimaced and replied, "Oh, um, I actually just got home from the hospital—"
"It's fine. I cleared my entire schedule for you this evening. You can come after you get some rest," Dr. Linda said assertively.
Bewildered at first, I sighed and said, "I'll be there in an hour." It was clear she was adamant about me attending. Plus, if I missed the mandated therapy sessions set by the court, I would be in big trouble. So she was actually helping me out.
Once inside the house, I collapsed onto the couch. Vader jumped on my back and meowed, trying to get my attention. I picked her up and buried my face in her belly.
"Meow!" Vader protested as I caught her, but soon she purred contentedly, sensing my mental state. The words "This is all your fucking fault" reverberated in my mind, and I couldn't push them away like I usually did.
Reluctantly, I dragged myself up, took a shower, and finally grabbed something to eat from last night. I made a simple peanut butter and jelly sandwich and ate it by the pool while gazing at the ocean. My dad rushed home after Robin notified him that I had returned.
His hair was unkempt, and his tie was slightly loose as he entered the living room. "Ed, are you okay? I tried contacting you last night."
"Oh, my phone ran out of battery. I finally recharged it and turned it back on in my car when I drove back," I said casually, tossing him the key to the Audi. "Send this to be buried at sea like your puke-filled Lexus."
He caught the key and rolled his eyes. "I'm not going to pollute the ocean. I saw the car. There's blood everywhere. I'll take it to the car wash—"
"Just give it to someone. I don't want it around the house anymore," I interjected. "Burn it, sell it, wash it—do whatever you want with it. Just don't bring it back."
"Did you have a really tough time?" my dad asked worriedly. He reached out to hold my shoulder, but I instinctively flinched away. He seemed surprised and concerned.
I stammered, "Sorry, I just… have a session with Linda. We'll talk when I get back." I left in a hurry, not giving my dad a chance to respond.
…
"Hi Ed, it's been a while since you came here," Dr. Linda said with a hint of sarcasm as I entered her office. Chuckling helplessly, I took a seat in front of her.
"Should we continue from the last session, or do you have something on your mind?" she asked, noticing my exhausted expression.
I chuckled softly, but my eyes remained somber. "You caught me. As expected of the profiler for the Tea Time Strangler's case."
Dr. Linda raised an eyebrow. "Oh, did you read the case file?"
"A little bit," I replied curtly. Dr. Linda smiled, trying to help. "What seems to be bothering you? Does it have something to do with the cases you're working on? I saw the articles this morning. The detective... is she in serious trouble?"
"Nah, she woke up. She's fine. Just a few days of observation, and she can go home," I replied dismissively.
"Then what seems to be the problem?" Dr. Linda asked in a calming voice.
I chuckled self-deprecatingly. "Well, I don't think I suit the police genre. I'm too anxious to function properly."
"Oh—oh! Because sitcoms are your thing," Dr. Linda said, already understanding my point.
I nodded, unaware I was being led on. "Yes. In sitcoms, you don't have to think about your favorite characters being shot to death in a police shootout. The worst death in a sitcom would be from a piano falling, excessive masturbation, or an offscreen elevator mishap. You wouldn't actually see people you like bleeding out, their family members crying desperately for them."
What followed was a lengthy rant about TV tropes and the stark differences between television and real life. Linda listened attentively, allowing me to express my thoughts without interjecting. I told her everything that happened with Chloe, not omitting any details.
"Ah, I really can't handle it—the weight of someone's life on my shoulders." I let out a beleaguered sigh before lying back on the couch.
Linda leaned forward and asked, "Aren't you holding that weight right now?"
"I mean, I feel pressure when dealing with the company, too. People's livelihoods depend on me. I can't make a mistake. One wrong move, and poof—everything I've worked hard for will crumble."
"Let's focus on that for a moment," Linda said, catching something in my response and trying to help me delve deeper into my concerns.
…
[General POV]
In Taylor's apartment, Selena walked toward Taylor, who was absorbed in her phone, texting someone.
"Is he still not answering?" Selena asked.
Taylor sighed in frustration. "No. Pepper couldn't get in touch with him either. How can I release the song if he's not even in the right frame of mind for it?"
The picture of Edward at the hospital had gone viral, sparking countless speculations about what had happened. The image, showing his bloodied, torn shirt and worried expression as he brought Chloe into the hospital, had been uploaded to social media by someone present at the scene.
News of Edward staying overnight at the hospital had also circulated, leading to a crowd of fans gathering outside the Entertain company building, eager to know if he was alright.
"Just postpone it," Selena suggested. "You haven't even finished the song yet."
Taylor fell silent for a moment, contemplating. "Should I go to his house?"
Selena rolled her eyes. "Why would you? You'll just add to his stress."
Finally looking up, Taylor said, "You go then."
Baffled, Selena stammered, "W-Why should I go?"
"You said I shouldn't go! Then, you go!" Taylor insisted. "Check on him! Make sure he's alright!"
"Just ask his cousin Maggie!" Selena retorted. Taylor looked taken aback. "Oh, right. I can do that." Though she quickly realized that Maggie didn't know anything either—she was just as in the dark as everyone else.
Meanwhile, after school, Jacob climbed into the backseat of the car and asked his mother, Mrs. Green, "Can you drive me to the hospital?"
Flabbergasted, Mrs. Green turned from the driver's seat and frantically caressed Jacob's arm. "Why do you want to go to the hospital? Did you break something in practice?"
"No. I need to see Ed," Jacob replied. Just then, he received a text in the group chat. As he read it, he said, "Ed has already gone home. Can you drive me there instead?"
"Honey, I think you need to give him some space. He just got home. He needs rest," Mrs. Green said. "School's over for the year. You can see him tomorrow."
"MOM!" Jacob protested. "How can I be his 'bro' if I don't check on him?"
"Hmm, why don't you take care of your actual brother instead?" Mrs. Green suggested casually. "Edward will be fine. He's very smart." She added before driving away.
As everyone speculated about Edward, he finally returned home after his session with Linda. After parking the car, he called his dad. "Can I take the ship out tonight?"
"When?" Ted agreed easily. The ship in question was the flawed vessel Edward had bought and modified to make it seaworthy again. It was the family's personal ship, not for business use. So far, Ted had only sailed it four times in three months since its reconstruction.
"You're not going to ask why?" Edward inquired.
Ted smiled. "You want a short escape to clear your mind. We're similar in that way. But you can't sail by yourself since you don't have a license, so you'll need someone to go with you."
"I'll ask Dwayne if he can do it," Edward mumbled, unaware of his dad's disappointment.
"Or I can do it," Ted suggested.
Edward furrowed his brows. "You have two trips today. Don't play hooky. Do your work properly."
As Edward stepped into the living room, he was surprised to find someone sitting on his couch.
"Why are you here?" he asked, taken aback.