Chapter 9

I never realized just how much I hated hospitals until I’d had a few days away from them. The smell of antiseptic hit me the second I walked in, sharp and cold, like it was trying to scrub away any trace of bacteria life existing. Just being back here made my skin crawl.

Hospitals have this way of making you feel small, like you don’t belong unless you’re bleeding or wearing a badge. Or better yet, dead.

“Name?”

the receptionist asked without looking up, her fingers flying over the keyboard like she had somewhere better to be. Ms Rachel isn't on duty today. Having her around made me feel at ease and I won't have to feel so nervous about coming in to sign off his cremation process. I Miss her already,

“Lyla Harrison,”

I said, gripping the edge of the counter.

“I have an appointment. I’m supposed to sign some papers for a…. Diseased family…. member.”

Her eyes flicked up briefly, her expression as from being bored to somewhat remorseful as it was polite. She handed me a clipboard, her nails clicking against the counter like a clock ticking down my patience.

“Room 202. The nurse there will give you directions to Dr. Simons’ office. She’ll explain everything.”

“Right. Thanks,”

I muttered, gripping the clipboard tighter than I needed to, like it might anchor me somehow.

As I turned toward the elevator, I couldn’t help but glance around, hoping to catch a familiar face. Ms. Rachel was nowhere in sight. Last I saw her was a few days before my dad passed. And right now, if I could wish for anything was for her to be here. She had this way of making even the worst moments feel bearable, making even the biggest mess seem doable. And best of all, I miss messing with her. I could use a good distraction right about now.

The nurse in Room 202 wasn’t much better. He wore a pair of pale pink scrubs and a stiff smile that didn’t quite reach her tired brown eyes.

“Miss Harrison?”

he asked, his voice brisk but not unkind.

“That’s me,”

I said, stepping in.

“Follow the hallway to the right, second door on your left—that’s Dr. Simons’ office. She’ll go over the details with you.”

“Got it.”

I nodded, pretending I wasn’t already overwhelmed.

Dr. Simons was sitting behind a large oak desk when I walked in, and the first thing I noticed was how kind her smile looked the moment our gaze met. She had short, silver-streaked hair that was neatly styled, and her glasses perched delicately on her nose. Her hazel eyes were warm and there was this genuine sweetness about her, like she truly cared.

“Miss Harrison, please have a seat,”

She said, gesturing to the chair across from her.

I sat there, gripping the clipboard like it was my only lifeline. Dr. Simons shuffled through some papers and slid a folder toward me.

“These documents are for your father’s cremation. We need your signature to move forward. Any questions before we proceed?”

I shook my head quickly.

“No,” I said, my voice coming out way too tight. I didn’t want to drag this out any longer.

“Take your time,”

she said, leaning back in her chair, her tone soft.

I nodded, but my eyes kept darting over the paperwork without really seeing it. The words were just blurs. Cremation costs, medical bills... it all felt so overwhelming I could feel myself cracking at the pressure.

Dr. Simons broke the silence.

“Just so you know, cremation itself runs about $4,000. And there are still some outstanding medical bills,”

She paused, scanning me before continuing

“..but I understand things are tough right now. We can figure out a way to work with you on that.”

I barely processed it, just nodding like I was hearing her but not really. My mind was still spinning.

“If you need more time or have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask,”

she added, her voice gentle.

“Thanks,”

I mumbled, scanning the file for the 7th time.

With a deep breath, I signed the papers, the sound of the pen scratching across them almost too loud in the quiet room.

Once I was done, I stood abruptly, my chair scraping against the floor.

“That’s it, right?”

“That’s it, thank you for your time”

she said with a genuine smile .

I muttered a quick “thanks” and left the room, walking fast enough to look like I had somewhere to be but slow enough to not draw attention. Once I got back to the lobby, I dropped into one of those hard chairs by the window. The sun outside was all wrong, too bright, too cheerful. Was the day always looking this refreshing.

“Lyla?”

I looked up, startled, and saw Ms. Rachel standing a few feet away. The moment I saw her, that heavy feeling in my chest grew even worse. Her face was softer than usual, her eyes a little downcast, like she was holding back from crying. There was a sadness in her expression, the kind that made her look so different from the usual friendly, want to annoy nurse I’d known.

“Hey,”

I said, trying to sound casual.

She walked over and sat down next to me, her hands folded in her lap. She opened her mouth to speak but the words didn't seem like they want to come out. She closed them and placed a hand on my lap.

“I’m so sorry about your dad.”

She began, practically bit her lips as she spoke

“I know I gave you high hopes about him, but I was really sure he would make it. I let you build expectations that eventual crumbled down and I'm sorry”

Her eyes glittered with tears and I could tell how sincere she was about this.

I shrugged, forcing a tight smile.

“It is what it is.”

Rachel gave me that look, the kind that made you feel like she could see through every wall you’d ever built.

“You don’t have to do that, you know.”

“Do what?”

“Act like you’re fine when you’re not.”

I scoffed, leaning back in my chair.

“I’m fine. People lose their parents all the time. It’s not a big deal.”

Her brows furrowed, but she didn’t push.

“Lyla.."

“I knew a day like this would come."

I cut her off

"I always did, I just didn't prepare well enough for it"

I sighed, then soon regretted what I had just said

"Not like I'm blaming you or anything.”

My voice panicked, trying to reassure her. Giving of that nervous laugh before I continued

“I had a bit of hope under all this thoughts that maybe, just maybe he'll scale through”

Rachel reached over, pulling both my hands to hold them.

“It’s okay to let it hurt, Lyla. You don’t have to carry it alone.”

“I said I’m fine,”

I snapped, irritation starting to build up on my skin. I sighed again,

“I'm fine Ms Rachel"

I said again but my voice cracked at the end. Damn it.

Rachel didn’t flinch. She just kept her hand there, steady, before pulling me into a hug. Her arms wrapped around me, warm, tight and firm, and for the first time in days, I felt something close to comfort. Something I had no idea I yearned for.

“It’s okay, sweetheart.”

She whispered,

"Just let it go. It’s okay to be weak sometimes. Cry if you need to.”

And that’s when it all fell apart. The anger, the hurt, the sadness, it all crashed down at once. I hadn’t realized how much I’d been holding in until it all came pouring out. The tears started flowing, ugly and messy. The wailing came out gradually, audible for one to know I was in tears without seeing me. I tried to hold them back, tried to stay strong, but the dam broke. Every negative emotion, the frustration , hurt and anxiety, everything I’d shoved down for so long spilled out, and I couldn’t stop it. I couldn't control them from spilling out.

Rachel didn’t say anything, just kept me close, her voice soft as she kept repeating, one hand stroking my hair while I cried myself away.

“It’s okay, just let it go. Let it out.”

I wasn’t sure how long I clinged to her, but at that moment, I didn’t care. She felt like she was what I needed at that moment.

When I finally pulled myself together, I sniffed and wiped my face with my sleeve.

“God, I probably look like a mess.”

I laughed awkwardly, my voice strained from the crying. Rachel smiled softly.

“Nah, you look human. Your dad would’ve said the same.”

I laughed again weakly, my chest still tight but a little lighter than before.

“Thanks, Ms. Rachel.”

I said, smiling as best as I could. Seeing my effort she returned the favor.

“Anytime, Lyla,”