Bethany

The phone rings, and Mason’s voice comes through, barely audible. “Did Natalie mention anything to you?” he asks. His tone is tight, strained.

“No,” I say, pausing as I try to figure out what’s going on. “Why?”

“I got home a bit late today,” he says quickly, like he’s trying to get it out before someone overhears. “When I walked in, she was passed out on the couch. She almost missed work. She looked completely drained and... different. But it wasn’t just that. She seemed off. Confused. Grumpy. I kept asking what was wrong, but the more I tried, the worse it got. Did she say anything to you?”

“No,” I reply. “I haven’t spoken to her today. Where is she now?”

“She’s getting ready.” After a brief pause, he adds, “Bethany, I think I should take her to the hospital. She’s hallucinating. She’s not in any condition to be around the residents, never mind managing them.”

I try to keep my voice steady. I don’t want to sound like I’m blaming him, but the message needs to be clear. “She’s been like that for days now.”

He doesn’t like that. I can tell by the way his voice shifts. “I know. But it’s getting worse. It feels like she’s slipping further away every day. I think she needs psychiatric care.”

My heart clenches, not with fear, but something closer to excitement. “Did you tell her that?”

“Are you serious? She’d bite my head off if I even brought it up.”

“Then what are you planning to do? You just said she’s not stable enough to be at work. Someone has to say something.”

“I’ll take care of it,” he says, sounding irritated now, like he’s annoyed I’m not offering more help. “I’m taking tomorrow off. I’ll sit with her, explain everything slowly, and try to get through.”

“What about today?” I ask. “You’re still letting her go to work like this? What if something happens?”

“I already told her she needs to call in sick, but she won’t listen. She says it’s too late to back out now. Oh, she’s here. I’ve got to go.”

The line goes dead before I can say anything else.