One More Time

“No, not really. Just met her the other night,” I said, looking into her lifeless brown eyes as they stared up at the ceiling.

Sarah patted me on the back, and motioned for me to follow her out. “Do you know her name? Anything? She came in with no ID, nothing,” she said. “We're trying to find her next of kin but are coming up blank here.”

“I can ask my stepbrother,” I said. “He knew her.”

I was numb. It wasn't the first death I'd witnessed, but it was the first death of someone I'd known prior to their admission into the ER. Sure, I'd been to funerals, known people to die. Eli's mom. Grandparents. An aunt who had lung cancer and passed away when I was in college. Those were different because the person hadn't died on my watch.

Not that I had been on the clock long enough to do anything about it, but the reason I became a nurse was, so I didn't have to stand around helplessly as someone I knew struggled to survive. I could do something about it. I could save them.

Yet, I couldn't save little Aubree's mother. I walked over to the nurse's station and two of the CNA's were talking quietly between themselves.

“Another one? How many does that make this month alone?” Linda said.

I answered for her friend, “It's the fifth overdose death this month. That's not counting the people who were almost dead on arrival, but managed to pull through, of course.”

Linda nodded. “Fifth this month and it's not even the fifteenth,” she said. “Geez, I remember when this town was shocked when we were seeing one overdose every six months.”

Since I'd gotten into Yora, the amount of drug addicts who'd come through that door had surprised me. Not only that, but the gunshot victims and others brutalized by violent crime. While I hadn't grown up there, it had always seemed like a safe, small town away from the crime of other California cities like Los Angeles and even San Francisco.

Yora was farther north, almost on the Oregon border, and usually had more problems with weed than meth or heroin. That was something that seemed to be changing lately, though.

“Earth to Hannah,” Sarah said, waving her hand in front of my face.

I blinked and stared back at her blankly, feeling like I'd just woken up from a nightmare. Except, it wasn't a nightmare, Shawna – Aubree's mother – was dead. Not even twenty-four hours after handing over her child, she was gone. Had Eli not taken Aubree in, what would have become of the little girl?

I cringed inwardly and didn't want to think about it.

Shawna had done one good thing prior to sticking that needle in her arm, at least. Had to give the woman the barest scrap of credit for that. As a mother, she knew she couldn't hack it. She probably already knew she was on death's door. At the end, she did right by her child. I couldn't fault her for that.

“You okay?” Sarah asked, giving me a concerned look. “Listen, it's okay if you need to take a few minutes, but we need you, girlie. It's a Friday night in Yora – and the night is still young.”

In other words, I had to pull myself together and get my head back in the game. Quickly.

“Yeah, I'm fine. Do you mind if I call Eli and see what he knows about the Jane Doe?”

“Go for it,” she said. “Take five and then back here, ready to get through another night.”

I pulled out my cell phone and searched for somewhere private I could make a call, finally settling on

a bathroom. I locked myself in and took a deep breath, unsure of whether or not this was a conversation I should have over the phone.

It was probably a talk better had in person, but we needed to contact Shawna's next of kin and figure out the next steps. She might have a mother or father out there, someone worried sick about their daughter. They deserved to find out as soon as possible, to say goodbye, and plan for her service.

I dialed Eli's cell phone number and it went straight to voicemail. Shit. That's right. He had to work tonight. I thought he might have called in, but apparently not. I dialed the number for the bar and Chuck picked up.

“Hey, is Eli available? It's Hannah,” I said, choking out the words.

“Yeah, one sec,” he grumbled.

There was no sort of Muzak or hold button, you could hear the rock music blaring in the background, bottles clinking together, and voices shouting at one another. I listened as Chuck called out for Eli and then a second later, my stepbrother was on the phone.

“Hannah? Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I'm fine. It's just –”

I closed my eyes and tried to get the image of Shawna's lifeless eyes, fixed in death and staring at nothing, out of my head. She'd looked so sad last night when she dropped Aubree off. She'd looked so beaten down and used up. Truthfully, she looked dead inside already. Not even twenty-four hours later and she was dead.

“Shawna was brought in tonight, Eli,” I said. “She didn't make it.”