The doctor exits out into the waiting room, and I immediately rise from my seat when he makes eye contact with me from across the way. He approaches me and asks me to step out into the hall and out of the waiting room. I cringe. That’s not good. Everyone else in the waiting room had informed of their loved one’s surgical updates without having to get up and move, so my mind jumps to a thousand different conclusions. Sylvia stands with me, and the doctor leads us both out into the hall.

There are some police out in the hall, so I feel somewhat relieved. My assumption is that they are here to take a statement from me and Sylvia, so I assume that’s why I was asked to leave the waiting room. However, neither of the two officers come near me. They keep their distance, and the doctor begins to talk. His eyes look tired; he has been in surgery with Eddie for hours now, and this is Eddie’s second major surgery since we first arrived. I’m not sure, but I am fairly certain this is the same doctor who performed the first surgery. I’m too distracted and distraught to keep track of who is who, so I’m not really sure.

The doctor does not look pleased to be talking to me. His eyes are heavy, his head lowered, and his hands a bit shaky. “We did everything we could.” He says, “But your brother is currently on life support and is still under. He might wake up, but even if he does, it’s not looking very good for him.”

I feel Sylvia grip my hand. I feel my jaw quiver. “What do you mean?” my voice is shaky. “Are you telling me he’s going to die? Is that what you’re telling me?”

“I’m telling you there is a good chance of him not recovering.” The doctor says, “Right now he is fairly stable, but I honestly do not foresee that happening. I can’t tell you if he is even going to wake up at all, but there is always that chance.”

I wonder how many other people he’s talked to today like this? How many other men have heard this man tell them that their brother is going to die? I can see in the doctor’s eyes that having had done this before does not necessarily make it easier. “I don’t know what to say,” I say after a few minutes of silence.

“Would you like to see him?” the doctor asks. He seems quite eager to get out of my presence. I don’t blame him. I’m seconds from becoming neurotic and falling out on the floor.

“Yes,” I say, still gripping Sylvia’s hand. I think it’s the only thing keeping me upright.

We walk down the hall, and the doctor takes us to a back area. We enter into one of the rooms, and my stomach drops. Eddie looks worse than before. His skin is so pale, and he is hooked up to more machines than I would bother learning to know what they are for. The doctor steps out to give me some time.

I wait until the doctor is gone before I pull up a chair beside Eddie, and I break down. I certainly did not expect to ever show Sylvia this side of me –especially not so early on in our relationship. I also did not expect someone to attack my older brother at our factory. I feel Sylvia put her hand on my shoulder, and she remains standing beside me. I bring my hands together and hold my face, wiping away any evidence of tears as fast as they fall.

Eddie remains perfectly still. He looks like a shadow of his former self. He does not even look real. The pale skin, the machinery surrounding him, and the simple fact that he’s in a room with me and is not yelling at me about something makes me feel uncomfortable. Sylvia keeps touching my shoulder as her own little way of showing me she cares. She does not say anything, and neither do I.

We sit in silence for a considerable amount of time before the two cops who had been staring at me in the hallway entered inside. They have come to get a statement from us both about what had happened. They had been giving us some time with all of the commotion and stress from Eddies’ surgeries. I still don’t feel like talking to them, but it’s not like I have much of a choice at this point. We both tell them everything we know about how we had found Eddie at the factory. They are short and to the point; I guess they can tell I’m pretty distraught. After getting our statements, they each hand us a business card and tell us to call if we think of anything else. I put the card in my back pocket and forget all about it. Honestly, by the time they’re gone, I can only vaguely remember the conversation at all. I can recall that one cop had a big red burly beard, but that’s is about all I can remember.

I sit with Sylvia for several more hours next to Eddie. Visiting hours are long over, but they let me stay anyways. Eventually, the doctor who had performed Eddie’s surgery enters the room with a sympathetic gaze. “Mr. Mont, I would advise that you go home and get some rest. We can call you if anything changes.” He says, but I am very hesitant. I could never forgive if Eddie were to take a turn for the worst while I am gone.

Sylvia looks exhausted, but I can tell she is not going to be leaving my side anytime soon. I sigh. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.” I say. I am doing everything I can to keep from falling asleep. I can hardly remember what my own bed looks like.

We don’t wind up leaving for another hour. I get as much information from the doctor as possible, and I want to hear him reassure me that I will get a phone call several times before I feel even remotely comfortable leaving. Sylvia offers to drive me home, and I willingly accept her offer.

The drive home is completely silent. I’m just glad I did not have to call my personal driver; he would have been awkward and tried to talk to me to make me feel better. He’s an awkward guy. We head up to my penthouse, and I just slump down into my couch.

I realize now that we have not spoken a single word to one another since leaving the hospital. I am not really sure what to say to her. I’m worried. A little scared too.

Sylvia sits down beside me and holds my hand. She does not say anything, but she puts her head on my shoulder. It’s reassuring, but it’s not exactly making everything better. She leans over and gives me a kiss on the cheek, and I turn to look at her. Something about having her here makes me a little better. So many things are running through my mind right now. Will Eddie be okay? Will we find out who did this? Is this related to the poisonings?

The last conversation I had had with Eddie had been harsh. It makes me sick to my stomach knowing that the last thing I said to him was something so cruel; we had gotten into a serious fight in my office. He needs to wake up so I can tell him I am sorry.

Sylvia kisses my lips and says, “It’s going to be okay, James.”

I’m not so sure.