“Well?” Noah asked, more than a hint of impatience in his voice. Charlotte continued to stare at him as if he’d asked her what a dog was. She crossed her arms tightly over her chest and shifted her weight to one hip, a far cry from her natural good posture after years of gymnastics. Her disgust was evident in her tone as she muttered, "Jeez Noah, it’s like you were estranged or something…”

The two had always been close, even when Noah had taken on the annoying younger brother role in middle school. Like all siblings so close in age, they’d had their disagreements, but above anything else they’d always been each other’s best friend. Charlotte had never experienced such bewilderment by something he had said or done. 

”We grew up in the same house. I mean, first of all…” She trailed off with a sigh, shaking her head in frustrated exasperation. She wasn’t even sure where to begin. “Did Mom used to have a drug problem or something?” He’d asked the question only moments ago as they sat in the hospital room, the woman in question unconscious beside them. It was just the latest in a string of strange comments and questions he’d been making since she’d returned home from college. “Don’t worry I won’t get lost in the attic on the way.“ muttered as he left to pick up dinner the previous night was another example. And when she’d first got there, he’d said something else that was strange… “She’s not really here anyway, she’s sometime else.” She thought it was, some time else, she hadn’t really processed it at the time and then later had thought she misheard him. This last question was just too much to ignore though, Noah was losing it. Charlotte swallowed and took a deep breath, trying to muster all the patience she could. He’s still in high school, she reminded herself. This has to be hitting him harder. Besides, Mom and Dad have always been more protective of him than me.

Her little brother looked lost, like he had when facing a troubling math equation in earlier years. His own shoulders were slumped slightly, almost seeming apologetic for being taller than her and his hands were in his pockets as he looked away from her face. Noah had stood up shortly after she had, moving around the bed so that their mother was behind him. 

“I’m barely three years older than you,” she began, “so don’t you think my memories are probably just about the same as yours?” Charlotte didn’t wait for an answer before continuing. “And don’t you think that if I knew something like that, you would too?” Their mother had always been open with them, sometimes to a fault. Charlotte was sure that if she had struggled with something so serious, she’d have talked about it with her children. The thought of it sent heat rising up her neck again. Her temples throbbed, and it felt like the air in the room thickened.

"I don’t know where these things are coming from. Have you been saying this stuff to Dad? You know how hard this is for him." She tried to sound calm but could feel her words tightening, slipping into that superior tone she hated—the same one she’d used as a know-it-all kid. Since her father’s call earlier that week about their mother’s worsening condition, the anxiety had been building inside her. Now, the hospital room felt like a furnace, her skin on fire. All her discomfort and uncertainty zeroed in on Noah.

Her father entered the room, clearing his throat, cutting off any further lecturing. Noah flashed her a warning look. “Oh,” Charlotte swallowed, turning and hugging the older man, “hi Dad.” 

She still had to lean up a bit to kiss his bearded cheek, though not the way her mother had always had to stand on tip toe as her father bent his head to kiss her. Her mother who had always seemed so strong to her, now reduced to a pile of blankets and sheets with a gnarled hand and waxy face peeking out. Her hair, never her mothers favorite feature, was limp and white but not greasy or straggly, at least. And she didn’t look very wrinkled. Charlotte thought she’d be happy for that much. She blinked back the wetness that threatened to spill over her eyes and onto her cheeks. Looking at her father brought little respite. He’d lost the weight he’d carried most of her childhood in their most recent attempts to get in shape - her mother had wanted them to stay fit now that Noah would be graduating high school. But now her dad was starting to look shrunken too, his clothes too big, his face haggard. She had to get out of there. Now. It was all too much. She couldn’t be in the same room with two dying parents and an unhinged baby brother. She needed to be back at school. If she were in the library where she could get lost in her work. 

As Charlotte started to get the look of a bird trapped in a barn, Noah felt his own anxiety prickling at the back of his mind. He could practically see the tension in the air like a neon fog, unsaid words hanging all around them. He felt suffocated by it all- the sterile smell of the hospital, the sight of their mother, who only a year ago had felt so full of life as she held him like a child in the wake of a bad breakup, the weight of Charlotte's unease and his father’s heartbreak, not to mention his own emotions and growing confusion mounting in the past week.

Nobody here can breathe. The thought struck him with a sudden urgency, and he put a gentle hand on his mothers shoulder, about to speak and then silenced by another one of those vivid memories he’d been having as he visited his mom. The memories were strange though because they felt like her memories rather than his own. In this one, it was his grandmother telling someone, his mom he surmised, that when nothing else would work ‘get in some water or get outside’. It felt like his mom was showing him this on purpose somehow, if that was a thing someone in a medically induced coma could do- telling him to get Charlotte out of there…to get himself out of there.

“Charlotte, we need to go.” It came out all wrong, her his sister’s brow furrowed in concern as his father’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly. “I mean we need to go walk Luna and Teddy,” he recovered, using the dogs as a convenient excuse to continue their previous conversation without involving their father. She still looked skeptical but he could see the fatigue etched on her face and hoped she’d go along with it.

 “They should be fine for a while,” their father started speaking, putting his own hand on his wife’s cheek and seeming to get lost in looking at her. He sighed and shrugged a shoulder, making his way around the bed to take the seat next to her. “She wouldn’t want you two spending too much time in here when it’s perfect fall weather out there anyway,” he said finally, pulling an old handheld video game out of the bag he had brought with him. “Me and mom are just going to be trying to save the princess anyway, you won’t miss anything.”

Noah thought his dad was laying it on for Charlotte’s sake as she still seemed somewhat reluctant to leave. And it must have worked because she finally nodded, a stubborn set to her mouth before she spoke. “Yeah, you’re right. We’ll bring back dinner.”

Charlotte looked to be holding back tears as she  leaned down and kissed her mother’s cool cheek. “See you in a little while Mama.” Noah thought he heard her whisper, as he and his dad exchanged claps on the arm on his way past. 

His sister looked pale, and seemed to almost stumble on her way out of the hospital room. Noah put an arm around her and the two silently navigated the small hospital. “Thanks,”she finally murmured, almost inaudibly as the fresh autumn air hit her face. “I don’t…” Charlotte shook her head, not finishing the thought, “could I ride with you?”