Immediately, doctors flooded the room, checking every piece of equipment in a frenzy.

“Her heart rate’s almost off the charts!”

“Get Clark on that IV, now!”

“Convulsions!”

Mrs. St. Paul was thrashing around, gripping the sheets with a furious strength. It was an eerie copy of Adrien’s experience earlier in the ER. He backed into a corner, feeling his eyes changing, and sank to the ground.

Greg just had time to see Adrien in the corner before he was shoved out of the room with Vicky. Somehow, the doctors had overlooked Adrien in the chaos and left him backed up against the cold white walls.

Suddenly, the machine’s beep dropped to normal, Mrs. St. Paul sat up, calm, and the doctors stopped.

The frail woman lifted a finger at Adrien, still huddled in the corner. He looked up.

“Adrien St. Paul,” she gasped, “you…are my son.”

With that, her eyes faded, she fell back against her pillow, and the steady beep of the EEG went flat.