Flac~At Last

Petrenko

Typical Naylor. Always running away, she thought as she jogged away.
"Where to check first," she muttered. Just as she was making her way to the locker room, Sacha was coming down the corridor.
"Oh hey Sacha, have you uhh seen Jac?" She questioned with a casual voice.
" No why has she gone missing?" Sacha sounded panicky.
"No no no. Uhh she uhh just said she needed the toilet and uhh she's been gone a while and you know. Nothing to worry about." Sacha nodded to this with a relived look on his face.
"Well I'll keep an eye out,"
Frieda nodded and swiftly walked past him, careful to avoid eye contact.

She had looked almost everywhere and was about to call Fletch when she remembered her conversation with Sacha. The bathroom. Of course.
She ran in the opposite direction, towards the toilets.

Careful not to be loud, she eased open the door. There was a faint sound of sniffling and she could she the shadow of a wheelchair under the disabled cubicle.
"Jac?" She whispered softly.
No reply.
"Jac, I know it's you just open the door. Let us help you." She walked over to the front of her door and sat in front, her back leaning on it.  There was still no reply.
"Jac if your not going to say anything then I'll just page Fletch. He's worried," we all are, she added in her head.
"No! Not him. Anyone but him," she sniffed.
"Then talk to me Jac! Open the door." Frieda took her pager out of her pocket and slid it under the door.
"There, it's just us."
There was silence followed by the faint gasp of breath as Jac pulled herself up.
Click
The door had been unlocked to reveal Jac. Sitting on the floor in pain. Her eyes glossy and full of tears. Her face red and tear stained. Frieda had never seen Jac like this. So weak. So vulnerable.
"Help me back into my chair please," she muttered.
"Of course," Frieda replied, her voice so soft and so comfortable.
"And then back to my bed. Where I'd like to be left alone," Jac added. Frieda sighed as she helped Jac into her wheelchair.