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The Family Shame

Page 38

by Christopher G. Nuttall


  “I don’t know what to say,” said Aurie, dumbfounded.

  “Say thank you,” said Dr. Fairlight.

  “Thank you all!” said Aurie, then she gave out hugs, taking care not to aggravate the young patients’ ailments. The “Children’s Floor for the Irrevocably Cursed, Magically Ailing, and Supernatural Virology” housed kids afflicted with all sorts of strange ailments. Emily’s weightless curse wasn’t the worst by any stretch.

  After everyone left, Dr. Fairlight winked and said, “Now get to work.”

  Aurie saluted. “Yes, ma’am!”

  The rest of the shift went like a dream. There were no brown messes to clean up, lunch was cheese noodles, which was her favorite, and all the kids were in a good mood. It would have been the best day ever at the Golden Willow Clinic for the Sick and Infirm if some VIPs hadn’t arrived right before her shift ended.

  A nervous whisper traveled through the floor as Dr. Fairlight notified everyone that one of the directors was giving a tour to a potential high-end donor. Tension squeezed lips flat, and even the kids seemed to catch the spreading quiet.

  From a side hallway, Aurie spied the VIPs. She’d heard from the station nurse that the potential donor owned the Herald of the Halls, the local newspaper that covered the halls and the city of Invictus.

  The older woman, Camille Cardwell, wore a gold lamé jacket that made her look like she’d walked out of a fashion magazine from twenty years ago. The daughter, Violet, followed behind her mother while staring at her phone, obviously not paying a bit of attention to the tour.

  To Aurie, Violet looked like the caricature of every rich girl she’d ever watched on TV or in a movie: blonde, rich, and vain. Granted, she’d never actually encountered a girl like that in the many high schools she’d attended over the years. The high schools Aurie went to were always on the seedier side of whatever town they were in, rather than the private schools that this girl had so clearly been a member of.

  Aurie felt a little guilty for assuming that Violet wasn’t a nice person. People had always made up stories about her and Pi whenever they’d been the new students, which had been too often. It wasn’t fair that she did the same.

  So Aurie went back to mopping the hallway, which took her the other direction, daydreaming about being able to enchant mops to clean the floor automatically. By the time she’d finished, the shift was nearly over. She pushed the bucket towards the closet near the main area.

  A whiff of perfume caught Aurie’s nose. She was so used to the antiseptic smell of mop water that the sudden infusion of musky plum snapped her head around. Violet walked alone, busily typing on her cell phone while nodding to the music she was listening to on her headphones.

  The girl was oblivious to her location, let alone paying attention to the bold red sign outside of Emily’s open door. Normally the nurses on duty warned people away if they weren’t paying attention, but the station was completely empty.

  Aurie dropped the mop and started running. “Hey! Stop! You can’t go there! Stop! Stop!”

  Oblivious to her surroundings, Violet kept walking. She was only a few feet from Emily’s door. The last time someone had mistakenly worn perfume on the floor, Emily had gotten a severe case of hives, and that had been when she was heavier and healthier. A dose this close could be fatal.

  Without thinking, Aurie lowered her shoulder and drove it into Violet. The girl looked up at the last second, surprise overtaking her bored expression. Together they went flying backwards, sliding a good ways on the recently mopped linoleum. It was a miracle that Violet didn’t hit her head.

  “What the hell is going on?” said Violet, pushing at Aurie to get off.

  “It’s Emily, I had to protect Emily,” said Aurie, climbing off the girl.

  She ran back to the doorway, preparing to call the nurses or hit the emergency button, only to find Emily’s bed missing. Aurie panicked for a moment, thinking the worst, until she noticed the scaffolding was gone too. Then she remembered they were all going to watch a movie down the hall in the special theater.

  “Oh, shit,” said Aurie under her breath. She turned and held out her hands. “I’m so sorry.”

  At that moment, the director, Dr. Fairlight, and Camille Cardwell came strolling around the corner.

  Violet wasted no time, pointing her finger directly at Aurie and saying in a controlled rage, “This, this girl just attacked me. She knocked me clear down the hallway, landing on top of me.” Violet marched over to her fallen phone, picked it up, and presented the broken glass to them. “See.”

  Camille turned towards the director. “Randall. What kind of operation are you running here?” She had a light New York accent. She moved to her daughter’s side with grace and not a hint of concern and began examining Violet as if she were a prize show dog at a competition. Violet looked a little shaken as she rubbed the back of her head.

  The director, a man in a suit who looked more like a banker than a hospital director, said, “Is this true?”

  “Wait. You don’t understand,” said Aurie. “She’s wearing perfume. You can’t go near Emily’s room.”

  The director wrinkled his bald forehead in confusion before shaking off her words as if they were a bad sign. He repeated his question, this time more emphatically. “Is this true?”

  “Well, yes, but you have to understand,” said Aurie.

  “Then get out. You’re fired,” said the director.

  Dr. Fairlight put her hand on the director’s shoulder. “Randall, you can’t do that. And she’s right. Look at the sign.”

  “The hell I can’t. This girl just attacked the daughter of an important donor. Do you want our kids to get better, or do you want a mop girl?” asked the director in a gruff tone.

  Aurie couldn’t even move. It was like she’d been encased in ice.

  * * *

  If you want to find out what happens to Aurie at the Hundred Halls, you can find Trials of Magic at all major retailers.

 

 

 


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