“They’ll discharge Revan by the time we get to him. The taxi driver should’ve brought us here in the first place,” Naomi grumbled and pointed to another sign directing them through this torturous route to the Emergency Department.
While they used a glass skywalk to reach the adjoining building, Stella saw several ambulances lined up in front of it. “We’re getting closer.”
Alexander reiterated, “We’ll try to play the same card as before. Naomi pretends to be Revan’s fiancée. I had to come up with something closer than friend.”
Stella nodded, “I saw you switch the ring your grandma gave you for graduation. Lucky for us, it has a diamond in it.”
“A ring from a toy capsule would’ve done as well,” Naomi said and rubbed her hands up and down her arms. “Okay! Here we are! What if they don’t let us see him?”
“Stay calm. We’re almost there,” Alexander encouraged her.
“Who am I, in case they ask?” Stella asked.
“You’re who you are. The sister of Revan’s best friend. We need to stay as close to the truth as possible. You’re supporting your friend, his distraught fiancée, at this difficult time.” Alexander winked at them.
Oozing self-confidence, he approached the nurse’s desk. “Good morning, do you speak English?”
“Yes. How can I help you?” the woman answered. Her name tag identified her as Corinne. She looked seasoned enough to have been guarding the entrance to the Emergency Department for at least half a century, probably always with a grim determination to only allow a handful of people past her station.
When Stella looked down the long, wide corridor, she saw individual spaces divided by plastic walls and curtains for some privacy. They reminded her of oversized changing rooms, but instead of monotone background music there was a symphony of low voices and the constant beeping of the medical equipment keeping the staff abreast of patients’ health changes.
One police officer, clad in a dark blue uniform and bulletproof vest, stood in front of a section not far from the nurses’ desk. The off-white floor-length curtain for the partitioned area was closed, but swishing, as if someone was brushing against it from the inside.
“We’re here to see Revan Forrester,” Alexander told her.
“I am afraid that’s not possible,” Corinne replied without consulting her computer.
“We have visitors’ passes.” Alexander stood straighter and pointed to the temporary pass attached to his polo shirt.
“Those only allow you to walk through the hospital’s hallways until you reach me,” Corinne explained with a bored expression.
“I apologize, umm… Corinne. We should’ve introduced ourselves. My name is Alexander Whittaker, and I work for the American Embassy. These are Naomi Winters, Mr. Forrester’s fiancée, and her friend, Stella Harrison.” In one smooth move, he flashed his ID again.
“Sorry, but I can’t help you,” Corinne said. She hadn’t even glanced at his card.
“I assume you didn’t hear me say this is Mr. Forrester’s fiancée. She is desperate to see him.” Alexander put his arm around Naomi’s shoulder while she pulled out her tissue again and held it in her left hand. In the cold fluorescent light, the diamond sparkled like a decked-out Christmas tree in a store window on Fifth Avenue in December.
“I heard you. Mr. Forrester has no approved visitors and I told you more than I should,” Corinne remained firm.
She nodded at someone who approached them, “Comment ça va?”
It was another police officer, carrying three Styrofoam cups of coffee. “Ça va bien, merci.” He placed one cup on Corinne’s desk.
Stella wondered if he was going to Revan. Before she could ask him, Naomi started sobbing and broke out in a loud wail. “I flew all the way from Philadelphia to Paris to be with my fiancé and you’re telling me I can’t see him? After everything he went through! He could’ve died! How am I going to explain to our babies at home that their daddy is all alone?”
She threw herself at Stella with real tears running down her face. Stella didn’t know what reaction Naomi expected, so made do with rubbing her back and murmuring, “There, there...”
The police officer in front of the curtain looked over at them and gave a hand signal to the coffee cop. At the same time, the curtain parted and a nurse walked out carrying an empty tray.
Coffee cop turned around and said in English, “You are Mr. Forrester’s fiancée? Come with me.”
Naomi’s tears dried up with astonishing speed. She blew her nose and said with a smile, “Oh, thank you! Thank you so much, Commissaire…?” She pulled on Stella’s arm.
“Capitaine Pascal Clouseau. Your friends have to wait here, we only allow one visitor.”
“Please, let her come with me. What if Revan doesn’t recognize me after his ordeal? Oh, what did that monster do to him in those tunnels…tunnels of death?” Naomi started sobbing again and clung to Stella’s arm. “Tell me, is he terribly disfigured? Is he in pain? Oh no, is he dying?”
Clouseau looked at his colleague and received a nod from him. “Okay, your friend can come.”
“Our babies will be so happy to know I was able to see their daddy.” Naomi beamed at him and wiped her nose.
“How old are the babies?” The cop asked.
“Oh, Harley and Porsche will turn one next month. Those two are keeping me on my toes, just like their daddy. Never a dull moment at our house,” Naomi said and reached inside her purse. “Would you like to see their photo?”
At the same time, the other police officer pulled the curtain aside. “Mr. Forrester, you have visitors.”
Stella and Naomi stepped inside.
Revan was propped up in a large hospital bed, covered up to his chest by a warming blanket. An IV was inserted in the back of one hand, with a blood pressure sleeve wrapped around his upper arm, a pulse oximeter taped to a forefinger, while a nasal cannula supplied oxygen. Behind his bed, an impressive assortment of beeping and blinking monitors made the small space look like a command center.
The grin on Revan’s face
