Trouble(93)

I slam the door, and head down the walkway toward her room.

One-oh-six. I rap on the door and wait.

Nothing.

I look through the crack in the curtains. The room’s dark except for the flickering TV, but no sign of Mia.

I knock again, louder, calling her name through the door.

Waiting, I listen for movement.

Still nothing.

“Mia!” I bang again. “I know you’re in there. Your car’s out front. I just need to know you’re okay.”

I press my ear to the door, listening for noise. Then I hear her … faintly.

“Mia!” I call again, my heart pounding.

“Jordan.”

Without a second thought, I rear back and slam my foot against the lock. It gives in one kick.

I tear into the room, and I see mess everywhere. Food wrappers, containers … just trash, everywhere.

I hear her groan. Bathroom.

She’s on the floor. My stomach bottoms out.

My eyes take in everything in less than a second. Dried blood on her forehead matted into her hair. What looks like chocolate, smeared on her face.

Then the smell hits and that’s when I see the vomit in the sink … and the smashed mirror above it.

I drop to my knees beside her. “Mia. It’s me, I’m here. Jesus, baby, what happened?” I take hold of her hand. Her knuckles are torn up, dried with blood – the mirror.

Fuck. What have you done to yourself, baby? Tears sting my eyes.

“Jordan…” she groans, her eyes flicker open, looking out of focus.

“I’m here.” I press my hand to her cheek. “I’m gonna get you some help.”

“No…” she mumbles. “… be fine. Just give … min-ute…” Her eyes close.

“Mia, baby. Stay with me. Stay awake.” I gently pat her cheek.

“Tired…”

“Mia.” I pat her a little harder, but she’s out, and then I’m dialing 9-1-1, telling them I need an ambulance immediately.



***



“How’s she doing?”

I stand as Dad approaches. I’m in the waiting room where I’ve been for the past half-hour since we arrived and they left me here, rushing Mia straight off.

“They’re not telling me anything because apparently, I’m not family.” I throw my arms in the air, darting an angry look at the receptionist.

Dad puts his hands on my shoulders, bringing my attention to him. “Technically, we are family.” He gives me a firm look before turning and walking over to the reception desk.

The last thing I want to do is refer to Mia as my step-sister, but if it’ll get me any news on her, I’ll tell them whatever the fuck they need to hear.

I pace around as I watch my dad talk to the receptionist.

He gives a few nods. Says a few things. Another nod. Then he’s walking back toward me.

“What did she say?”

“Just that Mia is currently undergoing tests, and they’re extremely busy tonight so we could be waiting hours before we hear anything.”

“Jesus.” I press my fingers to the bridge of my nose, closing my eyes, trying to settle my rattling emotions. “I just need to see her. Know she’s okay.”

“She’s gonna be fine, son.” His hand squeezes my shoulder. “Looks like we’re gonna be here a while, so I’ll go get us some coffee.”

I nod, and lean back against the wall, my eyes still closed.



***



A few hours later…





“Mr. Matthews?”

My head jerks up. A woman, mid-thirties, hair tied in a bun and wearing a white coat, stands before me.

“I’m Dr. Packard. You’re Mia Monroe’s family? You came in with her?”

I get to my feet. “Yes. I’m her … her…”

“I’m her step-father,” Dad cuts in, standing beside me. “How is she doing?”

Dr. Packard turns her attention to Dad. I give him a grateful look.

“Mia suffered a small contusion to the head from her fall, nothing too serious, but what was of concern to me after initially examining Mia was that she was showing signs of severe dehydration, and her blood pressure was dangerously low—”

“Severe dehydration?” I say, confused. “What would cause her to be severely dehydrated?” I’m no doctor, but I know severe dehydration isn’t something you just get.

She gives me an uncomfortable glance. Then turns to Dad. “Mr. Matthews…”

“Jim, please.”

“Jim, has Mia ever had any issues in the past? Any problems with food … of any kind?”

“What do you mean – problems with food?” I ask.

Her eyes dart to me again. “You are Mia’s…?”

“Step-brother.” I nearly choke on the words because it couldn’t be farther from the truth. “Jordan. I’m Jordan.”