“Dad?” I called out, stepping into the large room next door to mine. “You in here?”
Silence answered me. I frowned and then gasped as I saw my father's form on the floor next to a large wooden desk.
I screamed a sound of pure disaster and ran to his side. He was ashen and clammy to the touch, but I thought he was at least breathing. Panic welled up in my chest and my heart threatened to beat right out of my ribs. I could hear every beat echo in my ear
s, whooshing and rushing as I cried for someone to come help us.
Everything moved in surreal time. Some seconds, like the one where I waited for him to take that single shaky gasp, seemed to drag on while others flitted away faster than the speed of light.
“What happened?”
Mr. Belrose was suddenly filling my vision, his hands on my shoulders and shaking me. I looked down at my father, unable to move and unable to make my mouth work. My Dad... Daddy...
I looked helplessly back up at Mr. Belrose, focusing on his gray eyes. Something in them helped loosen the tightness in my chest making it hard to breathe. His hand on the bare skin of my arm was a tether back to sanity.
“I heard a thunk and I came in. I...” I stammered, the words sounding off-key and hollow to my ears. I knew there was something I should be doing, something I should have done by now, something that would help my father, but for the life of me, I couldn't remember what it was.
“Bastian?” Charlotte's soft voice echoed through the room. Her brown eyes went wide as she saw my father on the floor. “What's going on?”
“He's alive,” Bastian said quietly, holding his fingers against my fathers throat and feeling for a heartbeat. Somehow, he was ridiculously calm, while silver cords of panic wrapped around me and threatened to strangle me. “Charlotte, please call Dr. Verner. Tell him we have an emergency that appears cardiac related. It will be okay, Ava.”
The word “cardiac” resonated in my mind, reverberating and cinching the cords of panic even tighter. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. I needed my father to wake up.
“Ava.” Mr. Belrose grabbed my wrist, his eyes connecting with mine. When I looked at him, the slender threads of panic holding me in place lessened. He knew how to be in charge and what need to be done. I was so glad he was taking control because I was freaking out. “Ava, I need you to go get the AED. It's in the kitchen next to the door. Lucia will know where it is if you don't see it right away. I need you to bring it to me, okay?”
I nodded, my head bouncing wildly. His words were my direction and I took off running the moment he let go of my wrist. I ran as fast as my legs could pump, skittering and sliding across the wood floors like an overgrown puppy all the way to the kitchen.
I stumbled into the bright yellow kitchen, panting and eyes wild. The smell of breakfast was still in the air. I looked for the AED, but since I wasn't sure what it would look like, I couldn't find it. The rush of having something to do, of doing something to help my father, quickly wore off in the face of my defeat. The panic from before returned full force as I had no idea where the AED was, yet knew my father needed it.
“Miss Ava? Are you looking for something?” Lucia asked, coming around the center island and wiping her flour covered hands on her dark apron. “You look like you've seen a ghost.”
“The AED, I need it,” I gasped. My voice came out squeaky, like I had forgotten how to use it.
Lucia's face paled and her eyes grew wide. She scurried over to the door, moving faster than I would have thought possible. Hanging on the wall to the side of the kitchen door was a small white and blue briefcase with a red cross on it. I couldn't believe I hadn't seen it. Lucia took it from the wall and placed it in my hands.
I nearly dropped it I was shaking so bad, but as soon as I told my fingers to wrap around it, it would have taken pliers to make me release it. “Thank you,” I whispered, turning around and running before I had even finished saying the words.
“No, don't sit up just yet,” Mr. Belrose scolded as I sprinted into the room. He had his hand on my father's shoulder, keeping him pinned to the floor. I didn't care what he was doing, my father was awake.
“Daddy!” I cried, rushing to his side and going hard to my knees. I was fairly sure I hit hard enough to leave a bruise, but I barely felt it. I threw the AED at Mr. Belrose so I could wrap my arms around my father's neck.
“For the second time, I'm fine,” Dad said, giving me a weak hug back. I wanted to sob into his neck, but I knew I needed to keep myself under control. Tears could come later. Right now, I needed to be strong for him.
“Lift up your shirt, Mr. Fairchild,” Mr. Belrose instructed, pulling several pads out of the now opened AED case.
“Why? What are you doing?” Dad asked with a frown. He didn't move to adjust his shirt.
Mr. Belrose didn't wait for him to actually lift his shirt, and instead just did it for him, placing the big square stickers across Dad's chest. “Just attaching the monitor and shock pads,” Mr. Belrose replied, turning to the machine and pressing a button. He looked right at me and gave me an gentle smile. “Excellent job, Ava.”
“Well, obviously I don't need a shock if I'm a awake, now do I?” Dad grouched, his eyebrows nearly coming together. I gripped his hand tight, holding onto him as if I could keep him here with me through that connection alone if necessary. He looked back and forth between Mr. Belrose and me like we were crazy. “I don't know what has the two of you all worked up.”
“Daddy, you were out cold on the floor,” I said quietly. I felt a tear trickle down my cheek and I wiped it quickly away with my shoulder. I couldn't cry right now. “You weren't waking up and you were barely breathing.”
Dad's face went from ashen to ghostly white. “What do you mean?” He looked over at Mr. Belrose and the AED. “What's going on?”
Mr. Belrose turned the AED monitor to face Dad. “I'm not a doctor, but I'm fairly sure your heart isn't doing what it is supposed to.”
Instead of the rhythmic peaks and valleys that I had seen on every medical show I could remember, the monitor was making strange patterns that only vaguely resembled the traditional ones on TV. My father's heart was obviously beating, but something wasn't right with it. I tightened my grip on my father's hand, even more determined not to let him go.