Page 12 of Silent Dust
Hawk knelt to meet Rhys at eye level, softening his expression. “I know, buddy. It’s tough to see things change, especially when you love your family so much. But sometimes, change can lead to new beginnings, even if it doesn’t feel like it right now.”
Rhys looked up, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “What if it doesn’t?” he asked, vulnerability breaking through his tough exterior.
“Then we’ll face it together. You’re not alone in this, Rhys. Your mom, your dad, and I—we’re all here for you. You can talk to me about anything, even the hard stuff.”
Rhys looked up, his eyes searching Hawk’s face for sincerity. “Really?” he asked, disbelief creeping into his voice.
“Absolutely,” Hawk replied, offering a reassuring smile. “You’re not alone in this. We’re all in it together, and I want you to feel comfortable sharing whatever’s on your mind. No judgment, just support.”
The tension in Rhys’s shoulders began to ease, and a small smile broke through the worry etched on his face. “Okay,” he said softly. “Thanks, Uncle Greg. Do you mind if I go read for a while?”
“Of course,” Hawk replied, feeling better as Rhys slipped off to his room for some quiet time. The weight of their conversation hung in the air, but it was a relief to see him find a moment of solace. Hawk turned his attention back to the kitchen, needing to regroup.
As he entered the kitchen, he noticed Lindsey bustling about, making sure the girls were settled with their snacks and a movie. He approached her, keeping his voice low. “Lindsey, can we talk for a minute when you have a moment?”
She looked up, her expression shifting from focused to concerned. “Sure, Greg. Just give me a second.”
After a few minutes, once the girls were happily engrossed in their film, Lindsey and Hawk settled at the kitchen table with a pot of fresh coffee between them. The rich aroma filled the air, grounding Hawk as he prepared to share what he had learned.
“Rhys told me something today,” he began. “He found some divorce papers. He didn’t mean to see them, but it clearly shook him.”
Lindsey’s eyes widened in shock, her hand instinctively covering her mouth. “Oh my God, I had no idea. That’s… that’s terrible. No wonder he’s out of sorts.”
Hawk leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. “He’s been trying to be strong for his sisters, but it’s a lotfor a nine-year-old to bear. He just wants everything to go back to normal.”
Lindsey sighed, her brow furrowing in thought. “I can’t believe Flora would let it get to this point without saying anything. She’s seemed different ever since she came back from that Medical Examiners event at Walter Reed two months ago. I thought it was just the stress of everything, but maybe it’s more than that.”
Hawk nodded, feeling a knot of worry tighten in his chest. “What do you think happened?”
“I don’t know, but she came back quieter, more withdrawn. It was as if something shifted in her. I thought it was just work or something…but what if it’s something more?”
They both fell silent for a moment, the weight of their shared concern hanging heavy in the air. Hawk could see the worry in Lindsey’s eyes, and he felt it mirrored in his own heart.
After a moment, he turned to her, knowing he had to tread carefully. “Should we try to talk to Flora? Commander Michaels briefed me on Bear’s mission. It’s important, and it’s tied to why Flora is in the hospital. Unfortunately, you know my clearance level, so I can’t discuss details.”
Lindsey grimaced, shaking her head in frustration. “I swear, I thought we were done with all the secrecy when you retired. But yes, I know all about the classified details you can’t share with me.” She sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. “I just wish we could get a clearer picture of what’s going on. It feels like we’re all in the dark.”
“I get it,” Hawk replied, trying to offer some reassurance. “But if we can talk to Flora, maybe she’ll open up about what’s been bothering her. It might help us understand why she’s changed so much over the last couple of months.”
Lindsey nodded thoughtfully. “I think spending some time with Flora in the hospital could be beneficial. If I approachher gently, maybe she’ll feel comfortable sharing her thoughts. Perhaps something happened while she was at that conference that’s been weighing on her.”
“Exactly,” Hawk said, feeling a flicker of hope. “You have a way of connecting with her as her best friend that I don’t. If anyone can get her to talk, it’s you.”
“Thanks, Hawk,” she said, a small smile breaking through her concern. “I’ll do my best to get her to open up. We need to figure this out for the kids’ sake, and for Flora’s, too.” As Lindsey got up to clean the kitchen, she looked over her shoulder, “Do you think you can watch the kids while I go to the hospital?”
7 - FLORA
The mask pressedhard against Flora’s face, an alien weight. The rhythmichissandwhooshof the ventilator – her lifeline – filled her ears, a mechanical heartbeat in the cold, sterile chaos. Time twisted, blurred. One moment, the fluorescent lights of the autopsy suite, the smell of formaldehyde sharp in her nostrils. The next, this cold… nothingness. She couldn’t move, couldn’t focus. Shapes swam around her – blurs of green and silver, machines blinking and beeping like frantic insects.Where…? When…?
A voice, muffled and distant, penetrated the fog. Was it now? Was it then? “Flora?”
She tried to answer, but her throat felt raw, swollen, like it was filled with sand. Nothing came out. A flicker of awareness, barely a spark that quickly faded. She tried to move a finger, a toe, but her limbs felt heavy, unresponsive, disconnected.
Then, a clear image shattered the haze: Rhys, sitting at the kitchen table, hunched over his homework. The afternoon sun streamed through the window, catching the golden highlights in his hair. He looked up, his brow furrowed with concentration. “Mom?” he asked, his voice clear and sharp. “Are you going to be late tonight?”
The image vanished as quickly as it appeared, leaving her gasping for breath, her heart hammering in her chest. Was it real? A memory? A hallucination? Guilt twisted in her gut.
The world wavered, distorted. Snippets of sound filtered through the haze. A jumble of numbers and medical terms. A voice repeating her name. “Respiratory… GCS… Narcan… coma…” A wave of nausea rolled through her, and she felt herself sinking again, pulled down into darkness.Coma?
