Page 77 of The Secretary Volume II

I flinch.

“Oh, that’s normal,” she says, tucking it into her palm like a magician concealing a trick.“Your mouth just needs time to adjust to the graft.”

The graft.

I try to ask how long that’s going to take, but all I can manage is a groan.

Across from me, the man stirs again.This time he gets partway upright—then slumps.His head jerks forward.His arm spasms once, then seems to lock.

He starts making a sound I’ll hear for the rest of my life.It’s not a choke.It’s not a scream.It’s like a straw sucking the last of something thick.

One of the nurses looks up.“That doesn’t sound great,” she says, as if it’s none of her business.

His body jolts once.Then again.A wet, gurgling snap.It looks like a seizure to me, but the nurse yells, “heart attack!”

Someone shouts for a crash cart.Another opens a drawer and pulls out a stethoscope, inspecting it like it’s an antique.

A man in scrubs jogs in, paddles in hand.

“Clear,” he says.

The shock lifts the man an inch off the recliner.

“Again.”

Nothing.

“We’ve got...something,” someone says, like it’s no big deal.“But it’s faint.How many times should we do this?”

The man’s eyes stare, wide open.

“We could be here awhile,” another says.“A lot of paperwork.”

One of the nurses sighs, glancing at her watch.“Well, we tried.”

Another nurse leans in, whispers something to the paddles guy.He nods like he’s done for the day.

They turn off the machine.Cover his face with a blanket.Start wiping the floor.

“We’ll need to sanitize and reassign this chair,” one says.

“Make a note to order more gauze,” says another.

I’m not sure how this is supposed to work.But no one even records the time of death.

My throat makes a sound I don’t recognize.Not quite a sob.Not quite a word.

They don’t even glance my way.

A few minutes later, the body is gone.So is the chair.So is the bucket.

A receptionist walks in holding a tablet.

“Hi,” she says brightly.“I’m just doing follow-ups.”

She glances at the chart, then at me.“You helped him with his intake forms, right?In the waiting room?”

I nod.Then instantly regret it.Pain shoots through my skull.

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