Family First, Pt. III || Closed
Flurries followed Hestia into the lobby, a swirling cloud of snowflakes that she swatted away like mosquitos. She wobbled to the stairwell uneasily. It had been sixty-seven hours. For sixty-seven hours and thirteen minutes, she had been awake. For sixty-seven hours and thirteen minutes, she'd spared no moment for herself, and now that the rush of the holiday was nearly over-
"Your mother's sleeping, Miss Jones."
"I'm not here for her," Hestia told the woman at the entrance to the ward. "Or perhaps I am, but-have you anywhere for me to hang this robe whilst I'm here?"
The thick, woolen gloves now replaced with a rubber, sterile pair, Hestia sat in the dimly lit nursery. Little Alexander's chest rose and fell at an unpredictable rhythm, the tiny balloons in his chest leaky and fragile. So still was his small body that Hestia jumped when one of the volunteers cracked the door open.
"Oh-Healer Jones, I didn't realize you were on the schedule for today."
"I'm not." Hestia rubbed her eyes and flattened an array of stray hairs atop her head. "I'm here on personal business today."
"Would you like me to get Healer P-"
"No." The poor candy striper jumped, but Hestia still shook her head. An unnecessary interruption wasn't something she would stand for. Not today. Not now. "That won't be necessary," she said gently. "I've read the charts. I'm not here to work, besides. I don't want anything to do with healing until I return tomorrow."
"All right." The young woman's voice faltered. "If you need anything, I'll be in the-"
Alone again. Alone at last. Sixty-seven hours and thirteen minutes of wrapping presents, sending owls, baking, and sitting up for everyone but herself. What was another five minutes for baby Alexander? After all, family had to come first.
