Heiress in Distress

•Chapter 21•

•Word Count: 1,940

⚠️ Trigger warning: This chapter contains a scene featuring a suicide attempt.
Proceed with caution and at your own risk. ⚠️

••••

The good-hearted, patiently accommodating domestic MD assigned to Clara told me that it will be about 3-4 more hours before Clara wakes up.

And I have been eagerly counting the hours as I sat by the hospital bed in the eerily chilly room, only leaving to either change for Élise, feed her, or put her to sleep -as per the time being.

I have turned down Elias' intermittent, but sincerely persistent, offers to eat, owing to my inability to stomach anything, which accounts for the light-headedness I'm currently battling.

After making sure Élise is deep into the layers of her slumber, I head back to Clara's side, chancing another glance at the clock mounted on the wall just above her head.
It isn't until I've lowered myself onto the leather armchair by the bed that I feel an additional presence.

"Should be any minute now," Elias says, strolling easily into the room.

I look up at him, responding to his declaration with a distracted 'Hmm'.
He has long abandoned his suit jacket, leaving the top two buttons of his dress shirt undone. He looks at his watch-adorned wrist one more time before hiding his hand away in his pocket.

I'm glad he's here. I have been intending to ask him a lot of questions only the lack of sleep I'm currently experiencing can allow to slip my mind.

"This place looks more of a residence than a clinic," I comment, somewhat wonderingly.

He nods, "As a matter of fact, it is a residence. Juniper's house,"

I almost choke on air, "Why are we in Juniper's place?"

Better yet, why is there a well-equipped clinic wing in her house? But that's a question in store for later.

Elias sighs through a look of utter exhaustion, which is a consequence of the peculiarly eventful day, and runs a hand down his face.

Before Elias has the chance to respond, a weak grunt, accompanied by a soft whine, draws our attention to the bed. My numb feet almost fail me as I abruptly stand from the armchair. She's awake.

"No.." Clara whispers weakly, squinting against the blinding LED light above her.

"No police," She whispers again. Elias and I exchange a look, mirroring each other's frown of confusion.

"Clara what are you-"

"No!" She screams, fisting the bed sheets with her pale, cannulated hands.

"No police please!" She screams again, shaking with a loud, jerky cry.

I'm not given the time to react as her sudden thrashing changes the steadily beeping sound to a fastidious beep, and the shock urges both apprehension and recognition to kick in.

"Place! I said place! I didn't say police" I clarify, frantically trying to put her to ease.

I don't notice Elias' absence until he walks back in with the MD, Conrad, seconds later.

"I'm sorry, Clara," I tell her, hands helplessly flying to my face to cover my nose and mouth, a mundane mask compared to her own plastic one.

It's taking both Elias and the MD to subdue her violent thrashing, but when Elias continues to hold her on his own, Conrad fetches something from the bedside table, uncapping it.