Dylan wiped at the tears of pride that sprang into her eyes. She looked for a tissue among the clutter and couldn't find any. Just what she didn't need, to be sitting in her mother's office crying like a baby in front of the evening shift staff.
"Shit." She remembered seeing a stack of loose paper towels in one of the drawers of the back credenza. Pivoting her mother's chair around, she scooted across the worn carpet and began a quick search of the cabinet.
Ah. Success.
Dabbing at her wet eyes and face, she spun back around and nearly fell out of her seat.
There, standing before her on the other side of her mother's desk, was a ghostly apparition. The young woman was joined by another, both of them wavering in and out of visibility. Then another girl appeared, and still another. And then, finally, there was Toni again, the girl Dylan had seen in her mother's hospital room the other night.>"What's going on?" Dylan asked as the nurse came out into the hallway.
"We're taking her off her meds and fluids. Shouldn't be more than another half hour or so before she's released."
"Released?" Dylan frowned, totally confused. "What happened? Did we get the biopsy results back or something?"
A mild nod. "We got them in this morning, yes."
And based on the flat tone, the results weren't good. Still, she had to ask, because she really didn't want to imagine the worst. "I'm not sure I understand. If you're taking her off fluids and medication, does that mean she's going to be all right?"
The nurse's expression fell a bit. "You haven't talked with her yet..."
Dylan glanced over her shoulder into the room. Her mother was sitting on the edge of her bed facing the window as she put on a sky blue cardigan sweater. She was fully dressed, hair combed and styled. Looking like she was ready to walk out of the hospital any minute.
"Why is my mother being released?"
The nurse cleared her throat. "I, um...I really think you need to talk with her about that, okay?"
As the woman left, Dylan scrubbed her hands with the alcohol gel and went inside.
"Mom?"
She pivoted on the bed and gave her a big, happy smile. "Oh! Dylan. I didn't expect to see you back so soon, baby. I would have called you later."
"Good thing I came when I did. I just heard they're letting you go home in a few minutes."
"Yes," she replied. "Yes, it's time. I don't want to stay here anymore."
Dylan didn't like the resignation in her mother's voice. It was too light, too accepting.
It sounded a lot like relief.
"Your nurse just told me the biopsy came back this morning."
"Let's not talk about that." She waved her hand dismissively and walked over to the table where the now opened box of chocolates sat. She picked up the candies and held them out to Dylan. "Try one of these truffles. They're delicious! Gordon brought them for me last night - in fact, he was here just minutes after you left. I wish you had waited so you could meet him. He wants to meet you, Dylan. He was very interested when I told him that you're going to need a new job - "
"Oh, Mom. You didn't," Dylan groaned. It was bad enough her mother had bragged to her boss about Dylan's story regarding the mountain cave, but to have her trying to find Dylan a job from her hospital bed was too much.
"Gordon has connections with a lot of important people in the city. He can help you, baby. Wouldn't it be wonderful if he could help you land something with one of the big news companies?"
"Mom," Dylan said, more forcefully now. "I don't want to talk about a job, or about Gordon Fasso, or anything else. All I want to talk about is what's going on with you. Obviously, the test results weren't good. So, why are you being released today?"
"Because that's what I want." She sighed, and walked over to Dylan. "I don't want to stay here anymore. I don't want any more tests, or tubes, or needles. I'm tired, and I just want to go home."
"What did the doctors say? Can we talk with them about the biopsy results?"
"There's nothing more they can do, sweetheart. Except prolong the inevitable, and only for a little while."
Dylan lowered her voice to just above a whisper. "What if I told you that I know someone who might be able to make you healthy?"
"I don't want any more treatments. I'm done - "