Chapter 5: It’s Not Called an Aftermath for Nothing

My chest constricted as I watched the physician, Dr. Lowe, and his assistant help Addison onto a gurney. He’d had a heart attack. They were taking him to the hospital to recover.

I squeezed Addison’s hand. His grip was weak and sweaty. He looked almost like a corpse with his eyes sunken in. It was unreal, seeing him this way. Addison was supposed to be strong. He was a magic-user, for crying out loud!

“It was the doughnuts,” I tried to joke. My voice was thick from the giant lump in it, though I held back tears. “I told you they were gonna give you a heart attack.”

“Coralie, the pendant,” he mumbled. “Get the pendant, hide it.”

“What? Where?” I asked. Of all things, he was worried about the pendant!

He attempted to wave his hand, but it fell limply to his side. “The spell, it worked. Hide the pendant until I can come back. You’re in charge. Be safe.”

Somehow, he looked grayer than ever. I’d never seen him look worse, not even during a bout with pneumonia a few winters ago.

“Mr. Hugh, don’t overexert yourself,” warned Dr. Lowe.

My tears threatened to spill out everywhere.

“I’ll take care of it,” I said, but I had no clue where I was going to put it. And how could I possibly oversee this whole place while he was gone?

Addison closed his eyes and didn’t say anything else. He looked like one of those wax mannequins of historical people they had at the museum downtown.

“We need to hurry,” said Dr. Lowe to his assistant. They loaded him onto the ambulance.

I went with them to the hospital but they didn’t let me go past the big swinging doors that led to the surgery rooms.

I waited alone for hours in a tiny, cold room that stank of antiseptic and puke, reading stupid romance paperbacks that someone left there until Dr. Lowe could come out to tell me what was going to happen next.

How bad was the heart attack? Would Addison still be able to do magic? Did the spell cause it?

I must have glanced up at the double doors five thousand times, bracing myself for the devastating news that Addison wasn’t going to make it, the damage was too much, that he was going to die if he wasn’t dead already, and that I’d be left all alone again.

My mind raced back to the pendant, still sitting in the burnt metal box. Where was I going to put it? Was Addison sure it was safe for me to touch? What if Rufus called?

The doors swung open. Dr. Lowe wore a billowy, white surgery gown. With his wire-rim glasses, he resembled a nearsighted ghost. I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.

I jumped up. “How is he?”

“The good news is that Addison is going to pull through,” he said. “He was very lucky you got help as fast as you did.”

I was so happy and relieved I could have hugged him. “Can I see him?”

“He’s been given an antibiotic injection and some drugs that will help his heart. He’s resting right now, but I can take you to visit. He’ll be glad to see you.”

My skin crawled at the thought of Addison being stuck with a gigantic metal-and-glass-barreled syringe. Hopefully he’d been unconscious during that part. “Will he have to have an operation?”

“It doesn’t look like it,” Dr. Lowe said. “He’s stable for now. We’re keeping a close eye on him to see how he does.”

I sighed with more relief. “When can he come home?”

“Well,” he said, “possibly soon. A heart attack is very serious business.” His eyebrows dipped behind his wire frames. “Is there anyone at home who can help you while he’s recovering here?”

“No, it’s just me.”

“That’s not the answer I was hoping for,” Dr. Lowe said.

“I can take care of myself! I’m not a baby.”

He chuckled in that condescending way that grownups have when they think something a young person says is amusing. He had no clue what I’d been through before Addison found me.

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“I didn’t say you were. Are you in school, Coralie?”

I crossed my arms. “Addison teaches me at home.” What business of it was his?

Dr. Lowe looked strained. “I don’t doubt you’re quite capable, but it’s a shame when adult responsibilities fall on a young person. And he’ll need you more than ever when he comes home.”

“I don’t care. Addison took me in without even thinking about it. And I was a pain in the ass who tried to steal from him.”

“Of course,” he nodded, cracking a real smile.

“Well, can I see him?” I asked, looking past him to the double doors.

He sighed. “Right this way. Remember, he’s still very weak and his heart can’t be over-excited.”

I rolled my eyes as I followed him out of the waiting room. Did he think I was going to make a scene when I saw him?

We stopped in front of a door at the end of another hall. Addison was propped up in bed on a couple of pillows, a deflated version of himself. At least he had his own room and he didn’t have to share with anybody.

“Just a few minutes with him, okay?” Dr. Lowe said. He closed the door behind him.

I sat awkwardly on a chair next to the bed. “Hi, Addison.” I tried to keep my voice as quiet as possible.

He smiled at me. Not a big smile, but I knew it was all he could manage, and I didn’t care. He was alive. “How’re you doing, my dear?”

I started crying. I hardly ever cried but this was different. I’d lost my parents already. Addison was all I had.

“I’m supposed to ask you that,” I sniffled.

“C’mere,” he said. “It’s okay, Coralie. I told you those doughnuts wouldn’t be the death of me.”

“Well, you’re not allowed to eat them anymore.” All I could give him was a blubbering half-smile.

He chuckled softly. “I promise to clean up my diet.”

I grimaced. “It’s not funny, Addison. I don’t want you to die.”

“It’ll take more than doughnuts to kill me off.”

“How can you joke about this?” I said.

“Would you rather I lay here and be depressed?”

“No,” I said. “Of course not.”

“I might have been dead if it wasn’t for you,” he said. “They said you ran to get help.”

“Lucky break he was close by.”

I tried not to think about how I stood in the middle of a busy street filled with vendors and shoppers and temporarily lost my mind. Thank the gods Dr. Lowe happened to be nearby treating a kid who burned himself on a hot pastry.

“Are you feeling better?” I asked.

“I suppose this is better than being six feet under,” he said. “I’m not looking forward to the hospital’s food, though.”

I had a million things I wanted to ask him about the spell and the pendant, but he was too exhausted for more questions. Not long after, he fell asleep. I hated to leave him, but I’d promised to hide the pendant.

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