A Woman's Devotion (Phantom Of The Opera x Reader)

17. Mike O'Malley

Sister Maisie could not delay the inevitable any longer, and she must have sensed it.

 "Fine." She sighed. "Follow me."

She helped me rise from bed and led me out into the hall. As a means of recovery, I had begun short daily walks down the hall and back, so I already knew my environment well. But which door would she lead me into? That was my most pressing question.

Sister Maisie did not survey my expression again. Apparently, when I was determined to go, she would not second-guess it anymore. She opened the door to a dim room and gestured me in ahead of her. With bated breath, I entered. I didn't need confirmation that this room would verify the depth of our trouble. The foreboding sense festering within my chest had already confirmed it.

The room was so dark that I could see very little, including Raoul himself. Turning about the room, my eyes finally landed on a shuttered window.

 "Couldn't we open those, Sister Maisie, to get some light in here?" I asked.

 "I'm afraid light would be troublesome for both your sakes. You don't want to see his full condition right now, whether you believe you're brave enough for it or not. And he sleeps better when things are dark."

 "Is that the best that can be done? He sleeps it off?"

Even in the shadowy room, I glimpsed Sister Maisie's slight nod.

 "I'm afraid so. This is what we call a severe case, and not much else can be done."

I nodded, nibbling on my lower lip. Her words all made perfect sense to me, but even then, that didn't make me detest them any less.

 "Have you got your answers, madame? Are you ready to go back now?"

The anxiety in Sister Maisie's voice was hard to miss. Clearly, she feared the stress this might cause me and wanted me away from it all now. But, now that I found myself here, I could not tear myself away.

 "I'd like to stay a bit longer, I think. Would you mind?"

In my head, I internally resolved that, even if I was refused, I would protest to stay until she had to give in.

 Sister Maisie expelled a heavy sigh, saying, "I would have to leave you here, for I have other things to attend to, but yes, I suppose you may."

She turned to leave, but a question abruptly rising in my mind, I stopped her.

 "Wait! How likely is it that he..." I could not say the word I intended to, so instead, I mumbled, "lives?"

In the doorway, illuminated by the light in the outside hall, she shrugged, shaking her head.

 "In a severe case, it can be as hard to predict as a coin toss, madame. I'm sorry."

After that, Sister Maisie departed, and I was left to silence and my own ponderings. Oh, what a nasty mess this situation had tangled into! I had misgivings about America from the start, but if things worsened... If Raoul- No, even in my head, I blocked that concept. I would never forgive Chief Mattis for fooling Raoul into thinking this scheme was an excellent idea. Perhaps I was misplacing my anger, reader. I daresay I was, but in this time of upheaval, my aching heart needed someone to blame. Mattis appeared the easiest target.

I advanced nearer to the bed, taking one of Raoul's limp hands in my own. It burned to the touch. Oh, my poor, dear Raoul! My heart shattered, crushed under the weight of this sorrow. He was asleep now, but even then, I feared his sudden awakening and witnessing my state of distress.

I dropped his hand, sank into the nearby chair, and buried my face in my hands. How had this happened? What was I meant to do? This helplessness was suffocating, but I could not fight its encroaching despair.