Izzy & Noah ✔️

Thirty-Five: Reentering the Workplace

The lift doors slide open, and Tom freezes in shock at the scene before him: the lift is in disarray, the suitcase is sprawled open, and Noah is lying unconscious on the floor.

"What happened here?" he asks, his voice full of disbelief.

"Noah had another seizure," I explain quickly, my words tumbling out. "He was complaining of a headache, but we were still talking normally when he suddenly collapsed and started shaking. Now he's in status epilepticus. If you don't mind, could you help us get him to a seat? He's huge, and it's a struggle to move him."

A rush of adrenaline floods my system, flooding me with a burst of energy, as if I've just woken up from a deep sleep.

Tom takes him by the hands and we each take a leg.

I find this scene both sad and funny.

We try our best to pull him onto the seat and lay him down carefully.

I cover him with a blanket I can find.

He snorts. He will be like that for a while, due to the drugs that completely calm his brain.

I go to the lift to clean up the mess, but Katy has already done it.

Katy and Tom are in the kitchen, so I join them, checking that Noah is calm before I go through the kitchen door.

"Hey," I say softly as I step into the kitchen, finding Tom and Katy deep in conversation. Their words are a blur, too quick and too quiet for me to follow.

"Izzy, how many seizures has he had in the last two days?" Tom asks, his tone serious.

"One," I reply, my voice shaky. "This morning, in the hotel room. It took me longer to get on the plane because it took time for him to come around and be able to talk and function normally."

Tom rubs his temples, clearly distressed.

"What?" I ask, confused, my mind racing.

"The situation is getting worse," he says gravely.

"Because he had two seizures in a row?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper, still trying to piece it together.

"Yes. His tumor is located in a difficult area. With the diffuse growth, we're not sure if surgery will even be an option," he explains.

His words hit me like a physical blow, sharp and cold, as if he'd stabbed me straight in the heart with a knife.

I clutch the counter, trying to steady myself. The weight of the news crashes over me.

Katy moves closer, her hand gently rubbing my back in an attempt to calm me.

"We'll see tomorrow. Let's not jump to conclusions just yet," she says softly, trying to ease the tension in the room.

"If you want, Izzy, you can stay here today to rest, or go to your flat and get some sleep," Katy offers kindly.

"I don't even know if I'll be able to sleep," I mutter, my mind still reeling. "But I have to go to work in the morning. Who's going to take him to the hospital?"

"I'll take care of it," Tom says, his voice steady but firm.

"Thank you," I reply quietly, grateful but overwhelmed.

"I'm going to head out now, if that's okay with you two. I need some time to unpack and prepare for tomorrow," I say, my voice breaking as I fight back the tears threatening to spill.

I say my goodbyes, taking one last look at Noah, still resting in the chair. I grab my suitcase, feeling its weight pull me down as I head for the lift.