Chapter 60 Chapter 0060
•CASSANDRA•
The moment Dante rushed into the room after hearing my voice, the look on his face changed from confusion to immediate alarm, and I could see the exact second he realized that something was terribly wrong.
Alena lay limp in my arms, her small body frighteningly still while her skin burned with fever, and no matter how many times I called her name or gently shook her shoulder, she didn’t open her eyes.
“Cass, what happened?” Dante asked as he hurried toward us.
“She won’t wake up,” I cried, my voice shaking as panic gripped my chest and made it difficult to breathe. “She’s not breathing properly and her heart is slow, Dante. Something is wrong.”
He knelt beside the bed and immediately placed his hand on her forehead, his expression tightening as he felt the heat radiating from her skin.
“We need to take her to the hospital now,” he answered.
I didn’t argue.
Within minutes we had wrapped Alena in a blanket and rushed out of the house, and the drive to the hospital felt longer.
I sat in the back seat with Alena in my arms while Dante drove faster than I had ever seen him drive before.
I kept whispering Alena’s name over and over again as if the sound of my voice alone could pull her back to consciousness.
“Please, baby,” I murmured against her hair, my tears falling onto the blanket. “Wake up for Mama.”
But she remained still.
When we arrived at the hospital, Dante carried her inside while shouting for help, and within seconds several nurses rushed toward us with a stretcher.
“What happened?” one of them asked as they carefully took Alena from Dante’s arms.
“She stopped breathing properly,” he replied quickly. “Her pulse is weak and she has a high fever.”
They wheeled her away immediately, and the sight of the hospital staff surrounding my daughter while machines and monitors were brought into the room made my legs feel weak.
Dante wrapped his arm around my shoulders as we followed them down the hallway.
“Cass, breathe,” he whispered.
But breathing felt impossible when my entire world was lying unconscious on that hospital bed.
For hours the doctors examined her.
They ran tests, monitored her heart rate, checked her lungs, and studied every result that came back from the laboratory, yet each time a new doctor entered the room, their expressions carried the same quiet confusion.
Finally, late in the afternoon, one of the senior doctors approached us.
“I’m afraid we still can’t determine what is causing this condition,” he sighed. "We've conducted many tests, but we have no clue what's wrong with her."
My heart dropped.
“What do you mean you don’t know?” I asked, my voice trembling.
“We have checked her lungs, her heart, and her blood work,” he continued. “Everything appears mostly normal except for her breathing pattern and the fever.”
“So what happens now?” Dante asked, though I could feel the tension in his body.
“We will move her to the ICU so we can monitor her closely,” the doctor explained. “She will remain on assisted breathing until she begins breathing on her own again.”
The words felt like knives.
“She will wake up, right?” I whispered.
The doctor hesitated. “We hope so.”
That was not the answer I needed.
A few minutes later, we were allowed to sit beside Alena’s bed in the ICU, where machines quietly beeped around her while a small oxygen tube helped her breathe.
The sight of her lying there so pale and silent shattered something inside me.
I leaned against Dante’s chest and began crying again, unable to hold back the fear that had been building inside me since the morning.
“This can’t be happening,” I whispered brokenly. “She was fine yesterday.”
Dante held me tightly, his hand gently rubbing my back as he tried to comfort me.
“We will figure this out,” he muttered. "Alena will be fine. She will come back to us."
“But the doctors don’t know what’s wrong,” I cried.
He was silent for a moment before he answered. “I might know someone who can help.”
I looked up at him immediately. “Who?”
“A friend,” he answered. “Someone who understands things the doctors cannot see.”
My heart skipped. “A witch?” I whispered.
He nodded. “She has helped me before with… complicated situations.”
I didn’t hesitate for even a second. “Call her,” I said immediately. “Please.”
I didn't have a choice. I was willing to do everything I could to bring my daughter back to me.
Dante took out his phone and stepped out of the room to make the call, while I remained beside Alena, holding her small hand and praying that she would open her eyes.
The hours that followed felt endless.
The sun disappeared behind the horizon, and the hospital grew quieter as night settled over the building.
At exactly nine in the evening, the door to the ICU room opened softly.
Dante walked in with a woman beside him.
She looked calm and composed, with long dark hair falling over her shoulders and sharp, intelligent eyes that seemed to observe everything at once.
“This is Arsela,” Dante introduced her.
I stood up immediately. “Please help my daughter,” I said, my voice trembling with desperation.
Arsela nodded gently. “First we must make sure we are not disturbed.”
She walked around the room and carefully closed all the curtains, shutting out the light from the hallway windows until the room was dim and quiet.
Then she approached Alena’s bed.
She stood beside Alena's bed and looked at her with a focused expression while placing her fingers against Alena’s forehead.
The room was completely silent except for the steady beeping of the machines.
I held my breath as I watched her. Finally, Arsela stepped back slowly. Her expression had changed.
“What is it?” I asked nervously.
She looked at me with a serious gaze. “This is not an illness.”
My heart pounded. “Then what is it?”
Arsela folded her hands together thoughtfully before answering. “Your daughter is not dying. But she is trapped in a limbo. Something that I can't exactly explain.”
I stared at her in confusion. “What does that mean?”
She looked at Dante and me for a moment before she answered. "Her father needs to see her. If not, she will die, Cassandra. You have two days to get him here."