I was filled with dread when I arrived at work the following morning. I didn't want to deal with another day of corporate pandemonium after the disastrous blind date the previous evening. Not only had the entire evening caused me to doubt everything about my life, but I was still in shock from the scathing comments and critical looks. Now, though, I had work to do and a boss to please, or at the very least, not annoy. There was no time to brood over it.
Hopeful to avoid Amelia, I made straight for my desk. We had not been comfortable with each other since that weird experience in her office. She was on the ground, gasping for air, and I couldn't get the image out of my head. It wasn't anything I wanted to think about. The way she had smacked me later, though, and the combination of rage and something else in her eyes, I simply could not forget. I knew it was bad, even if I wasn't sure where we stood.
When I noticed anything strange, I was just getting used to it and attempting to concentrate on my computer screen. Today the normal office hum was unusual, almost tense—it was quieter. Hesitantly, people glanced toward Amelia's office as they spoke quietly. I leaned over to ask receptionist Janet what was going on because my curiosity was getting the better of me.
Are you not aware of this? Her eyes wide with worry, she whispered. "This morning, Amelia did not arrive. She arrives on time every time.
With a frown, I said. That seemed peculiar. Whenever I arrived at the parking lot, Amelia was the first person in. After everything that had transpired, I couldn't fathom her simply not showing up for work.
Was it something, like she called in sick? Tightening a knot of worry in my chest, I asked in an attempt to appear nonchalant.
Janet merely shook her head. Nobody has heard from her. Her phone is off, despite Leo Jaxon's persistent attempts to call her throughout the morning.
Leo Mitchell. I got a shiver from hearing the word. A man known for his cool and calculated demeanor, he was the department manager. The fact that he was the one attempting to get in touch with Amelia added to my unease, as I had always had a horrible feeling about him.
I got up without a second thought. "Let me see how she's doing,"
Though she didn't try to stop me, Janet appeared astonished. With my thoughts racing, I grabbed my jacket and made my way to the lift. Not too far from the office, Amelia resided in a posh apartment building. Having completed some paperwork a few weeks prior, I was familiar with the address even though I had never been there. I felt that there was a big problem when I descended into the elevator and couldn't shake it.
It was a haze during the journey to Amelia's house. My mind raced through all the various outcomes, my fists clenching the driving wheel. And if she was injured? Or perhaps someone had reached out to her? My stomach lurched to think about it. I applied a bit more force to the pedal.
I parked quickly and dashed inside her building as soon as I got there. I promptly introduced myself and explained why I was there, even though the doorman looked at me strangely when I walked up. He hesitantly let me through for a brief moment.
A lavish penthouse with an amazing view of the city occupied the top floor, which was home to Amelia's flat. Feeling heart palpitations, I rapped on the door. The question was not answered. Even after I pounded very loudly, nothing happened.
My voice floated over the deserted corridor, "Amelia, it's Lucas." "Are you inside somewhere?"
Stillness.
I barely gave the door handle a second thought before attempting it. It turned readily in my hand, much to my astonishment. Nothing locked the door. Upon hearing it, I became alarmed and proceeded to open the door and enter.
That being said, there was something strange about the flat even though it was spotless. The room was illuminated by faint, spooky light from the drawn curtains. The low hum of the refrigerator was all that answered when I yelled her name again.
With my steps resonating on the glossy floor, I ventured deeper inside. Both the kitchen and living room were vacant. As I got closer to the corridor that led to the bedroom, I started to feel more and more uneasy. I was so close to the door that my heart was in my throat.
I could see a tiny bit of the room beyond it because it was slightly ajar. Taking a breath, I forced it open. My blood ran cold at what I witnessed.
Motionless, Amelia lay on the bed. She appeared pallid and had labored breathing. I hesitated for an instant, my mind whirling with a million ideas. I quickly came to her side after snapping out of it, though.
"Amelia," I tried rousing her with a gentle shake. Could you hear me, Amelia?
She seemed confused and could hardly focus on me even as her eyelids fluttered open. Shouting in a shaky voice, "Lucas..."
I had a surge of alleviation. She had survived. Yet there was a big problem. Seeking any hints as to what had transpired, I cast a quick scan about the space. The empty medication bottle with its label ripped off was sitting on the nightstand when I spotted it.
A panic began. Was it something she had taken? Did you take too much of this? Time to consider was not on my side. Her assistance was urgently needed.
I tried to maintain my composure as I took out my phone and contacted 911, saying, "Amelia, stay with me." I nearly dropped the phone because of how shaky my hands were. An ambulance was on its way, I was told by the dispatcher when I provided them the address and declared an emergency.
Taking Amelia's hand, I turned back to her. Climatic and frigid. Without knowing if she could hear me, I muttered, "Hang in there." "Aid is on the way."
It seemed like hours passed during those minutes. Her responses were slow and fading, even though I continued to talk to her in an attempt to keep her awake. She was too important to let go of. Considering all that had transpired, the notion of losing her was unbearable.
The sound of sirens finally reached my ears from a distance. As the paramedics hurried into the room and evaluated the situation, a wave of relief washed over me. Examining her vital signs and asking me questions that I was hardly able to respond to, they moved with a trained quickness.
When they struggled to steady her, I stepped back, feeling powerless. I insisted on accompanying her to the hospital and followed them outside as they put her on a stretcher. Noticing the desperation in my eyes, they didn't dispute.
Flashing lights and sirens made the ride to the hospital seem like a blur. With a prayer in my heart, I sat beside her and held her hand. The realization of what had transpired did not fully sink us until after we got to the emergency room and they carried her away.
In the waiting area, I slumped onto a chair and let my thoughts wander. That's not how I had expected to find her; I had come to check on her, to make sure she was okay. How much had she taken? For what reason? Who was it that had abandoned that bottle on her bedside table?
I had a lot of questions, but I couldn't figure them out. Waiting and hoping against hope that she would survive was all I could do.
Thoughts of how much had changed since our initial meeting in her office crossed my mind while I sat there. It seems as though her life had also taken a drastic turn after mine. However, I was certain that I wouldn't leave her to deal with it alone, regardless of what transpired.