Nothing.

Fuck. I make my way through the living area, down the hall, and stop short of Cora’s room. Her light is on, but she’s clearly not awake. She’s lying on her back on top of the covers, one arm hanging off the edge of the bed, while the other is sprawled across the mattress, still clutching her cell phone. Both dogs are pawing at the side of the bed and whimpering.

“Cora.”

I step inside the room, my feet cautious at first. Unsure.

“Corabelle.”

She doesn’t move. She doesn’t flinch.

Is she even fucking breathing?

“No, no, no, no, no….” I feel like the air leaves my own lungs the moment the thought crosses my mind, and I dash over to her bedside, shaking her. “Cora. Cora!” She doesn’t respond. “Holy fuck…. Jesus…” My eyes catch sight of an empty bottle of sleeping pills tipped over on her nightstand and I fucking lose it. I climb on top of her, straddling her waist with my knees, and I press my ear to her chest as I continue to shake her.

This isn’t real.

This is a prank—a practical joke, just like that time I gave her the cornstarch donut and she pretended to faint. She’s about to wake up and say, “Gotcha”. Then she’ll laugh and laugh, and I’ll be so pissed off at her, but so, so relieved that she’s okay.

But that doesn’t happen.

She is still, lifeless, and I flash back to Blizzard lying on that dog bed in the middle of the hospital room looking eerily similar.

“No… God, no, Cora. Come back to me. Fucking please don’t do this…”

I pull my phone out of my pocket, almost dropping it as my hands start violently trembling. I punch in the numbers 9-1-1 and ramble off the situation to the dispatch operator, sounding like a crazed, desperate man. And I am.

I am.

I’m instructed to perform CPR. I carry her from the bed and lay her down on the floor, pressing against her chest like I’ve seen in the movies. Then I tip her head back, pinch her nose, and breathe my life into her mouth.

“Is she breathing?” the operator asks over the speaker.

I reach for her wrist and try to find a pulse. I place my ear to her heart again.

God, I can’t tell.

“I don’t know. I don’t fucking know….”

“Okay. Just stay on the line and help will be there soon. Continue the chest compressions, fast and hard…”

The voice fades out as I continue to press against her chest, occasionally stopping to search for a sign of life. “Don’t you leave me, Corabelle. I fucking love you. Don’t you dare leave me.” I gather her petite frame in my arms, bringing her up to my chest, sobbing into her hair. I cling to her, trying to zap her with my lifeforce, trying to bring her back to me with nothing but my tears and words and love. “Come back,” I whisper through my grief, then lay her back down to continue the chest compressions.