Madeline is her guardian angel. Amelia honestly doesn't know how she would survive her day-to-day life without her. Friends have come and gone. She has loved and lost boyfriends. Relatives have fallen out of her life, and yet, Maddie has always been there, standing by her every single step of the way.
After losing everything left in her stomach multiple times, coughing endlessly, and moaning about how she might actually be dying, Amelia's only source of comfort is Madeline. Her sister combs through her hair with her fingers and hums soft melodies in an attempt to coax her to sleep—reminding Amelia of their childhood and how they used to stay in each other's rooms on days when it seemed like everything was going wrong. It was them against the world.
Around five o'clock in the morning, Amelia finally nods off, only to wake up three hours later to the sound of birds chirping outside and the sound of cars rushing down the street. The morning sunlight chases away some of the gray fog in her bedroom, and she uses a great deal of strength just to sit up. She can feel the fever still nestled beneath her skin, and her tongue feels like cardboard in her mouth. There's no doubt in her mind that she's fairly dehydrated.
Her nose is completely clogged, which gives her a terrible sinus headache. And less than five minutes after waking, she has to suffer through a phlegmy coughing fit. Gross.
She sees Madeline asleep on the other side of the bed. She has dark circles under her eyes that match her own, and even though Amelia feels a twist of guilt in her gut for keeping her up all night, she's also immensely relieved someone was watching over her.
Maddie's super-sister senses must somehow know that Amelia is up because, a minute later, her dark blue eyes open, and she's rubbing a weary hand over her face. She blinks at Amelia, smiles reassuringly, and asks, "How are you feeling?"
"Bad."
"Thought so. Do you think you can try to get a few more hours of sleep?"
"I wish I could, but everything hurts and I can't get comfortable…The room is spinning."
Maddie frowns worriedly at her and presses her hand to her forehead, keeping it there for a few seconds. "You're still really warm, too…Amelia, I know you don't want to hear this, but I think you should go to the hospital."
"Ugh, don't make me."
"The longer you lie here without eating or drinking, the worse you're gonna get."
"No."
"Come on, don't be a baby about it," Maddie says, taking a jab at her pride because that's one of her notorious weaknesses.
"I'm not being a baby," Amelia whines petulantly—not her best defense.
"Yeah, you are. You're also really bad at taking care of yourself. I'll get you some juice and toast, and then we'll go, okay?"
There really isn't any way for her to win this argument, so Amelia nods despairingly and burrows farther into her blankets and pillows. When breakfast is ready, she tries to take a few nibbles, only to end up feeling sick to her stomach again. She does, however, manage to hold down a few meager sips of orange juice.
Then, she sluggishly pulls a hoodie over her head, gets her feet into a pair of sneakers, and lets Maddie help her into a puffy winter coat. Her sister also wraps a knit scarf around her neck and slides a hat with a fur pompom embellishment over her head.
"I think I'm warm enough, Maddie. I'm melting," Amelia mumbles crabbily, carefully standing up with her sister's help. Her limbs are like goo—threatening to surrender to gravity and end up on the ground at any given moment.
Maddie ignores her complaints and says, "There's a cab waiting outside. Do you have everything you need? Phone, ID, insurance card, and tissues?"
"Yeah, I'm fine...You know, we could've walked to the hospital. It's not far from the university."
"Listen, you need to save your energy, okay? This is an emergency, so we're taking a cab."
"It's not an emergency."
"Stop talking," Maddie huffs at her, locking the front door before guiding them to the elevator. "You're impossible sometimes."
"Sorry…"
"It's fine. I just haven't had any coffee yet, so try not to drive me too crazy okay?"
"Thanks for this. You don't have to sit in the ER with me. It's gonna be boring and a long wait, probably."
"I'll do what I want to do, and if that means I want to sit with you, I'm gonna sit with you, and you're gonna be quiet about it, okay?" Maddie snaps without any real bite as they reach the lobby and head outside. She heads to the cab first and opens the door for Amelia, and then, they're off.
It's no more than a ten-minute drive, and before Amelia is fully mentally prepared, Maddie is guiding her through the walk-in entrance of the ER. While Maddie gets the paperwork they need to fill out, Amelia makes herself comfortable in one of the chairs in the waiting area and rubs her nose with a tissue, sniffling ceaselessly.
"It's gonna be about a forty-minute wait, which isn't bad at all," Madeline tells her when she's back, clipboard at hand. "You're probably better at filling out these forms than I am though…"
With a little groan, Amelia takes the paperwork from her and starts writing down her information and medical history. Does she smoke? No. Is she allergic to any medication? Nope. Any medical conditions? No. Is she married? Not yet. Then, it's just basic stuff—like her address, emergency contact info, cellphone number, social security, insurance info, the reason for her visit, etc. She's barely alert enough to get through it all.
"Done," she announces after ten minutes of intense form-filling, and Madeline hands everything back to the staff behind the main desk.
"I know you don't want to be here, but it's for your own good," Maddie says as she returns to the chair beside her.
Amelia nods and buries her face in her scarf. She sees a few familiar faces walking past—staff she's seen during her clinicals here at the hospital. None of them know her name, fortunately—she doesn't know them that well, which is a relief because she doesn't want to be recognized by anyone. It's a big hospital, so hopefully, she'll be able to blend in with the crowd.
There's a TV mounted to the wall, and the channel is set to some local news network. Turns out there was a fire downtown, but everyone in the building was left unharmed. A child is missing after last being seen in the park. There's a cute viral video of a dog jumping through a hula-hoop. Want to know how to cook healthy vegan meals when you've only got ten minutes to spare? Stay tuned!
"Amelia Jones?" the triage nurse calls out around half an hour later.
Amelia gets up on wobbly legs, lets out a painful cough, and follows the nurse into a separate room, where she's asked to stand on a scale to get her height and weight recorded.
"So, you've got the flu?" the nurse asks.
"Yup. A bad case of it, too," Amelia says, stepping down from the scale once it's okay for her to do so. She sits in a nearby chair for a moment so the nurse can put a hospital bracelet around her wrist and take her temperature, pulse, and oxygen saturation.
"Sorry to hear that, sweetie. You go to the college here?"
"Yeah, I'm a medical student."
"Oh, that's great! Maybe you'll be working here soon, huh?"
"Hopefully," Amelia says with a tired smile, watching the nurse write down her vitals and suddenly thinking about how she's done this hundreds of times for students at the clinic.
"All right, honey, come on. Let's get you a bed."
She and Madeline follow the nurse onto the unit and over to one of the curtain-separated rooms, whereupon Amelia doesn't waste any time and lies down as soon as she knows which bed is hers. Frankly, she's beyond exhausted and doesn't want to put to the test how much longer she can stay on her feet.
"How about I bring you something for your fever?" the nurse suggests, helping her recline the bed and get more comfortable.
"I'm probably not going to be able to hold it down anyway," Amelia says.
"Okay, we'll wait until the doctor sees you then. Someone should be around in a little bit."
"Thanks."
She suddenly misses Feliks and Toris. Even though they're still students, they might as well be registered nurses already, and it'd be really nice to have them here right now. They can make any situation less glum.
"You know, considering it's Saturday, I'm surprised this place isn't busier," Maddie comments, taking a seat by Amelia's bedside. "I thought weekends would be hectic around here."
"Yeah, we must be lucky..."
Saturday…Why does that suddenly seem important? Something churns in her stomach and makes her uneasy, and when she finally realizes what it is, she becomes paler than she already is.
"Oh, no," she groans, bringing a hand to her head. This is bad. This is so bad.
"What is it?" Maddie asks, eyes widening. "Should I get the nurse?"
"No, I just…Remind me what day it is."
"December sixteenth."
"And it's the third Saturday of the month, right?"
"Yeah, why?"
She's going to puke again. If she had known what weekend it was, she would have convinced Maddie to let her stay at home, or, at the very least, to have taken her to a different hospital.
"Oh, God…Oh, God, why? Is this funny to you? Are you having a blast up there?" Amelia says, staring up at the ceiling and practically sobbing.
"Can you tell me what's wrong?" Madeline demands, bracing herself for the worst.
Amelia holds her aching stomach and lets out a dejected cough of surrender. Let the heavens take her. Let lightning strike her dead here and now.
"Kirkland's here…I know because his schedule is at the front desk of the clinic, so I see it every day, and he's at the hospital every other weekend," Amelia explains.
Madeline runs a nervous hand through her hair and winces on her behalf. "There are plenty of doctors here. You might not get him. It's fine."
"I'll never be able to face him again if he finds out I'm in the ER for the freaking flu."
"Maybe he's on the night-shift?"
"No, I know for a fact that he works days."
"Oh, man."
"Yeah, exactly," Amelia groans, hiding her face behind her scarf. "Maybe if I start faking some chest pains, they'll assign me a cardiologist instead…Get me a cardiac work-up, people. Don't leave me like this."
"Oh, stop."
"Ughhh," she complains. "There's still hope though. Like you said, there are other doctors here, and—"
The privacy curtain gets pulled aside, and that's when her hopes are squandered because a second later, Dr. Kirkland is standing at the end of her bed—an amused expression on his face mixed with a hint of concern. He's amused and smug. What a horrible combination.
"Well, well, I see there's hardly a need for introductions, is there?" he says, setting down her chart on a nearby counter with a lopsided smile.
Whatever higher power is allowing this to happen needs to stop right this minute. This isn't fair. She shouldn't be subjected to this much humiliation in the course of a single lifetime.
"Didn't think I'd be seeing you so soon," she says, trying to act casual about the whole thing even though she wants to disappear.
"It's a small world," he remarks before turning toward a bashful Madeline and shaking her hand. "Good day, I'm Dr. Arthur Kirkland, and it appears as though I'll be taking care of your sister today. From a distance, I'd venture to say the two of you are identical."
"Hello, I'm Madeline—Amelia is my twin. It's a pleasure to meet you," Maddie says politely. That's why all adults love her—she's too well-mannered for her own good.
"Likewise, though I would have preferred to have met under different circumstances," Dr. Kirkland notes before making himself comfortable on a rolling stool that's located right beside Amelia's bed. He's so close Amelia can see the rise and fall of his chest.
He lowers the bedrail so he can more easily examine her. Then, he turns his gaze to her increasingly pale face and asks, "What happened? What compelled you to come to the emergency room?"
Amelia purses her lips and tries to get herself to relax, but she's still internally screaming. "Other than the fact that my sister forced me to come?"
He chuckles. "I already concluded that. I know you well enough to understand you'd never willingly seek treatment for anything."
She's pretty predictable, isn't she?
"Well, uhh, last night wasn't great...I slept for only about three hours because I was either coughing up a lung or throwing up. Can't really hold anything down. Pretty sure I'm dehydrated beyond repair," she mumbles.
Dr. Kirkland feels her forehead with a cold hand that smells strongly of hand sanitizer and says, "Yes, you look quite a bit worse than yesterday…Open your mouth."
She lets her tense jaw slacken and her mouth fall open, and he shines a penlight at her tongue and tonsils. Then, he picks up her left hand and lightly pinches her skin, checking her turgor.
"You're certainly dehydrated, but I'm sorry to inform you that it is not beyond repair," he mocks, letting go of her hand. "When did you start feeling flu symptoms?"
"Around Tuesday."
"Four days ago, then? Hmm, you're going to be trouble, that's for certain."
"What do you mean?"
He narrows his eyes, scrutinizing her, and explains, "Nausea is possible with the seasonal flu, but such frequent vomiting is uncommon. That leads me to believe you've contracted more than one infection."
"Great, this keeps getting better," Amelia groans as another coughing fit takes hold of her. She sits up and starts hacking, lungs burning, and by the time it's over, there are tears rolling down her face. She swipes at them angrily and hopes neither Dr. Kirkland nor Madeline saw them.
Dr. Kirkland tsks, and while he's got her sitting up, he decides to listen to her lungs like he did at the clinic. He tugs up her sweatshirt and places his stethoscope on her back. "Deep breaths..."
Maddie watches with increasing concern, leaning forward in her seat anxiously. Amelia can tell she's about ready to jump out of her chair and have a full-blown panic attack.
Dr. Kirkland hangs his stethoscope around his neck again once he's done and frowns down at her, reaching a verdict. "We'll get you started on IV fluids and medication for the fever and nausea, but first, we'll need a blood and urine sample. I also want you to get a chest x-ray done at some point because this is beginning to look like it has progressed past the point of being the flu."
"You think I have pneumonia?"
"We'll find out," he says, giving her shoulder a small squeeze. "The nurse will come in soon, and I'll be back to check on you later."
He leaves, and she rolls her head to the side, immensely sleepy but still unable to actually fall asleep. It takes a few moments for her to realize Madeline is looking at her with a goofy smile, and, all at once, she feels self-conscious.
"What?" she asks her sister.
"You did it—you got on Kirkland's good side."
"No, I didn't."
"Yeah, you definitely did. It's clear he likes you."
"I think you're the delirious one now."
Madeline shakes her head and grins even wider. "Please, he's liked you ever since he gave you the job. Otherwise, he never would've asked for your resume."
"No, he's just being nice to me now because he knows I'm dying."
"You're not dying."
"I may as well be, dude," she says, shivering. "Man, it's cold in here."
"Must be the fever. It's pretty comfortable in here, actually," Madeline points out. "Well, at least you're in good hands now. He's not nearly as mean as I thought he would be."
"Looks can be deceiving," Amelia reminds, and that's when the nurse comes in to take her blood. It's over quickly, thank goodness. With her recent fainting spell still fresh in her mind, she doesn't trust herself around blood like she used to.
She manages to retain some of her dignity by mustering the strength to walk herself to the bathroom to pee in a cup instead of having to do it over a bedpan, so that's somewhat of a silver lining. Then, she finally gets her IV put in and feels the cool rush of fluid going into her vein.
Just an hour on the IV does miracles for her, and she feels miles better than she did before. The nausea medication must also be working because her stomach stops doing somersaults.
And two hours after that, she gets her promised chest x-ray done. It's no worse than any other x-ray she's had in the past—nothing but lying totally still and holding her breath for a few seconds at a time. Then, she's left to rest. She's still not comfortable enough to fall asleep, but she rests in bed while Madeline talks softly to her to fill the silence. Everything's fine at the library where she works, but, ooh-la-la, there's a handsome boy who started working in the children's fiction section. Unfortunately, Madeline claims he's not her type. Amelia didn't even know either of them even had a type.
Dr. Kirkland drops by for a moment around that time, and though Amelia will never say it aloud, she feels more at ease when he's around. Maybe it's because she knows he won't let her aspirate on her own bodily fluids in this bed, or maybe it's something about how his bedside manner isn't as bad as she expected it to be. He brings her a pillow, which is great because these ER beds aren't really beds—they're stretchers, so they're super uncomfortable to sleep on for long periods of time.
Then, he checks her breathing yet again and informs her that the chest x-ray showed that, yes, she does, in fact, have pneumonia—not a serious case, but it's a concern nonetheless. "I don't wish to make you stay here any longer than necessary, but it's likely we'll have to keep you overnight until your breathing improves. How do you feel?"
She shrugs her shoulders and coughs. She's still shivering, even though the nurse covered her up with a blanket a little while ago. "I don't feel nauseous anymore, but my lungs and head hurt."
"You're wheezing. Are you short of breath?"
"Yeah..."
Not needing any further information to take action, Dr. Kirkland puts an oxygen mask over her nose and mouth a few minutes later, and her immediate instinctual response is to reach up to try to take it off.
"No, no. Leave it. It'll help," he says patiently, guiding her hands away from her face and back to her sides.
Admittedly, it does help, and the cool air eases some of the stress on her lungs.
"Is she going to be all right?" Madeline asks, and the fear in her voice is obvious. "She just keeps looking worse."
"She'll be fine if she rests and we continue to monitor her," he replies, sounding reassuring. He looks down at Amelia's face, and she looks hazily back at him. Fortunately, her breathing is evening out thanks to the aid of the additional oxygen. "We need to cure you or else Feliks and Toris will never forgive me. They're quite fond of you."
She smiles softly at that, eyes drooping. The ache in her lungs is not quite as intense, and she lets out a small groan of relief.
"Any better?" Maddie asks, leaning over her.
She nods weakly, and her sister scoots her chair closer to pet her head. The gentle touch is the last thing Amelia needs to drift to sleep.
Maddie isn't there when she wakes up. She must either be out getting food or in the bathroom.
It's eerie being alone in her hospital bed. The oxygen mask from earlier is still on her face and hissing away as it does its job. Someone must have turned off the light above her bed, because the room is dim now, and the only light she sees is the light filtering in from behind the privacy curtain.
She lets out a heavy groan and notices just how groggy her brain is at the moment. Her vision is a little blurred, and she's still being endlessly assaulted by bouts of chills. On the bright side, her tongue doesn't feel like cardboard anymore, so she's not as dehydrated as earlier.
Dr. Kirkland comes tiptoeing in a few minutes later, expecting her to still be asleep. "Ah, you're awake. You were asleep for almost four hours."
He takes her pulse, checks that everything is still all right with her oxygen mask, and is about to assess the state of her lungs again when she erupts into yet another coughing fit. This one is worse than all of the previous ones, and she swears she almost breaks a rib in the process. Hot tears stream down her face again as Dr. Kirkland sits her up and pats her back firmly to help her cough up the phlegm in her lungs.
"All right?" he asks once it's finally over. He also passes her some tissues so she can dry her eyes.
Amelia's sure her cheeks are flaming red, but hopefully, he'll think it's the fever and not the embarrassment she feels.
"Y-Yeah," she croaks. "This sucks."
"I'm not discharging you today."
"Okay."
"What? No argument? No 'damn that wretched Kirkland?' I'm sorely disappointed. I certainly expected more from you," he teases as he checks to make sure everything is in order with her IV.
"I don't think I'd have the energy to go home even if I wanted to," she says in between a wheeze.
"Well, now I know you're seriously ill."
"…Great joke," she says with scathing sarcasm, voice muffled by her oxygen mask, but he's close enough to hear her clearly. Besides, he must be pretty well-versed in making sense of otherwise incoherent mumbles. "Do all doctors have this scintillating sense of humor or just you?"
"I like to think it's just me," he replies with a dry smile. "I'll forgive the cheek for now, but I won't be as sympathetic once you've recovered."
"I'm not in a professional work-setting, so anything I say now should be considered as being off-the-record."
"Fair enough."
"…You wouldn't happen to know where my sister is, would you?"
He places his stethoscope on her back for what feels like the hundredth time that day and says, "I believe she went to get dinner—after asking me multiple times if you would be all right without her presence, mind you."
Amelia can't help but smile. "Yup, that's my Maddie. I don't deserve her. Sorry if she's been nagging you, though."
"It's no trouble at all. Believe it or not, you're not my most difficult patient of the day."
"What? I've got competition?"
Dr. Kirkland nods, and Amelia realizes he must be pretty tired himself. Spending one's weekend in a crazy ER probably isn't that much fun after you've been doing it for years. "My other patient is confused and keeps attempting to rip out his IV. He almost attacked one of the nurses."
"Impressive," she jokes, coughing a little. "Don't worry, I'll step my game up, in that case."
Suddenly, someone starts shouting from the direction of the nurses' station, and there's a loud thud. A second later, another person yells, "Call a code!"
Dr. Kirkland sighs, says, "Excuse me," and casts the privacy curtain to her room aside for a brief moment to let himself out and see what's going on. He disappears and doesn't come back for a while.
But things do quiet down. Amelia supposes that means everything is under control again, so she isn't too concerned. She continues her steady breathing and adjusts her oxygen mask a little because it's starting to hurt her face from being pressed against her skin for so long, and Madeline is back soon after that. She saved some food for Amelia, but Amelia has to decline the offer because her appetite is still nonexistent at the moment.
Time passes slowly in the hospital, and even though Maddie tries to keep her entertained by playing her some funny cat videos on her phone, it's not enough to keep boredom from setting in. On the bright side, Amelia gets a next door neighbor. She can hear people on the other side of the curtain to her left, and she wishes she could sneak a peek at what's going on and say hello without it being socially awkward. It sounds like two parents with their kid, and the kid's crying—as expected. Poor thing. She loves kids, and if she could, she would go over there and try to comfort her (it sounds like a girl, anyway).
An hour later though, she regrets her previous thoughts because when a nurse comes in to take the kid's blood, the kid starts howling and screeching as if she's being murdered. The screaming makes Amelia's ears ring and aggravates her headache (which was starting to fade). She empathizes with the child, but god, would it be too much to ask for her to scream at a lower pitch, at least?
When it's done, and the girl starts to quiet down again, the silence doesn't last long. She starts shrieking all over again when the pediatrician comes in.
"Hopefully they'll send her home soon," Madeline whispers in Amelia's ear, wincing against the immense noise.
Around seven-thirty in the evening, as the day-shift starts to get ready to hand over the reign to the night-shift, Dr. Kirkland comes in to see Amelia one last time before he clocks out. He arrives shortly after her nurse finishes taking her vitals and goes about the usual process of listening to her heart and lungs, and as he's doing that, her neighbor starts wailing again.
He flinches and pauses his examination to say, "You're not going to get any rest like this, are you?"
"Probably not," Amelia admits with a tired smile, "but, oh well."
"I'll take care of this."
She's not sure what he plans to do, but she doesn't dare say a word as he storms off. He's gone for a good fifteen minutes or so, and before she can ask him what's going on, he's unlocking the wheels of her bed from their motionless position and moving her—IV, oxygen mask, and all—to another part of the unit.
She sits up to protest, but he shushes her and instructs her to lie down again. Madeline is close behind them, just as confused.
He stops in front of the isolation room, which has an actual door separating it from the rest of the unit, and brings her inside. It's blessedly quiet.
"You can stay in here for now, until this room is needed to actually keep a patient isolated," he tells her. "Now, if there's a problem during the night, there's a call button for the nurse on the wall behind your bed. Make sure you receive your next dose of medication around midnight. Then, we'll see how you're doing in the morning. If you feel worse, let the nurse or the next doctor know. Understood?"
"Yeah, thank you."
"And if someone tries to move you from this isolation room without good reason, tell them that I said there will be hell to pay in the morning."
She barely holds back a snort of laughter and nods. "Got it."
"Visiting hours will be over in an hour," he warns, addressing Madeline this time, "but you can probably get away with staying until the nurse asks you to leave. Any other questions or concerns?"
Both Amelia and Madeline shake their heads.
"In that case, goodnight."
Once he's gone, Amelia sheepishly looks to Madeline and says, "All right, maybe he doesn't hate me for now, but all of that can still change."
Being on a stretcher sucks. It makes her neck, back, and shoulders ache, but the ER isn't meant to be a hotel. That said, she sleeps through most of the night, waking up only once or twice when the touch of her nurse or doctor accidentally rouses her. Fortunately, it appears no one else needs the isolation room, and so, she's allowed to stay exactly where she is.
Her lungs feel better—not as achy and heavy—although the coughing hasn't stopped. It's progress, at least.
And her appetite is back. She's grateful for the cup of warm oatmeal Madeline brings her first thing in the morning. It really hits the spot and gives her back some of her energy.
"You're looking much better," Dr. Kirkland notices as well. "You still have a fever, but your breathing is under control again."
It's welcome news. Amelia wants nothing more but to go home to her own bed so she can have some soup, watch some television, and…oh, man, she has an exam to study for. She considers begging Dr. Kirkland to discharge her right then and there, but in the end, she doesn't have to worry because he makes the decision himself about two hours later.
The next time he comes into her room, it's to hand her a clipboard with some discharge forms she needs to sign. She also gets some lengthy literature on how to take care of her pneumonia when she gets home, which she doesn't actually have to read because Dr. Kirkland summarizes it for her.
"You'll need bed rest, fluids, and over the counter medication for the next few days. If you have a humidifier at home, use it. If not, boil some water in a pot and breathe in the steam to help with your chest congestion. If your fever won't break or you start feeling short of breath again, come back to the ER," he explains, scribbling something down before handing another pile of papers to her. "There's a note excusing you from your classes for the next two days in there. Don't concern yourself with coming into work this week. I also took the liberty of making sure you have a copy of your bloodwork and the results of your chest x-ray."
She looks at the papers and nods before handing everything over to Madeline. She knows she can trust her sister with documents more than she can trust herself.
"Thanks."
Dr. Kirkland nods curtly and starts to make his way out. "I don't want to see you here again. Feel better, and since I may not see you until after the break, Merry Christmas and a happy New Year."
"You, too."
She smiles. It's odd how she's no longer intimidated by him after this impromptu adventure. It's like everything has changed, and now she knows why Feliks doesn't fear him either. He's not a mean person—not really, anyway.
Madeline helps her change into a fresh set of clothes so she doesn't feel quite as gross, and then, they make their way off of the unit, into another cab, and back home again. Looks like she won't have to worry about studying for that exam after all—she's got a perfectly good excuse to request to make it up another day.
"Here's some tea and soup," Maddie says, coming in with a tray of goodies once Amelia gets settled in bed.
She should get pneumonia more often. This is great!
"Thanks, sis. You gonna stay and watch a movie with me?"
"I kind of have some work for school to catch up on."
"Please? Just for a little bit? I'm so sick," she exaggerates, holding a helpless hand up to her forehead. "Look at me. Have you no sympathy?"
Maddie rolls her eyes and scoffs. "Okay, I'll sit with you for a few minutes, but then I need to get to work."
Her doe-eyes still work like a charm.