Filed to story: The Daughter in the Shadows (Yunice) Book by Una Norris
Critical care rooms had to be monitored around the clock, but people avoided them whenever they could.
Mr. Gerardo lay on his bed, completely sealed off behind layers of plastic sheeting.
The plastic was there to prevent any bodily fluids from splashing and spreading infection.
Yunice stood in the doorway and pulled out her phone. She began recording a video for Taylor.
It wasn’t against the rules-but to Taylor, this would be a memory she could hold on to forever.
Five seconds into the video, Mr. Gerardo suddenly stirred. He sat up and, as if sensing something, turned toward the door.
“Dr. Rylie… is that you, Dr. Rylie?” he rasped.
Yunice frowned slightly. He’d been in a daze for days. If he was lucid now, it could only mean one thing-his final clarity before death.
She stepped inside. “Mr. Gerardo, you still recognize me?”
He was sitting upright, and slowly-painfully-swung his legs off the bed. He stared at her, voice trembling with emotion.
“I want to go home… Doctor, I want to see my daughter. I’m dying. I… I want to see my family one last time. I just want to hold my daughter again…”
Yunice’s nose stung. Her brows knit tightly together.
She knew-if he were fully lucid, he would never make such an impossible request.
But he was dying. His brain could no longer weigh risks and consequences. He was only following the most basic human instinct.
He just wanted to see his daughter again, to hold her one last time.
He didn’t want to die alone, on a cold hospital bed.
As a doctor, Yunice had witnessed countless moments like this. She held up her phone toward Mr. Gerardo and said, “Mr. Gerardo, stay seated. If there’s anything you want to say, say it now. I’ll pass it along to Taylor.”
But it was like he couldn’t hear her. His eyes were vacant, his body rigid as he stepped forward, reaching toward her with both hands.
“Taylor… sweetheart… where are you… why won’t you come take me home… Taylor, is that you? Take me home… I miss your mom… let me go home, I haven’t cooked for her in so long…”
Yunice couldn’t hold it in anymore. Why is it that good people never seem to get good endings? The better the family, the more they were marked for suffering and separation.
Her own father… he had been just like that. So kind, and yet… gone too soon.
But beyond the sorrow, another thought quickly snapped her back to the present.
Mr. Gerardo – caught in a moment of lucidity before death – was walking out of the containment zone!
That couldn’t happen. Once a patient lost the ability to think clearly, they posed a severe exposure risk to medical staff.
Yunice quickly set her phone down and tried to coax him back toward the bed.
But Mr. Gerardo couldn’t process her words anymore. His mind was already gone.
Panicking, Yunice glanced around. With no other choice, she tore down the plastic sheeting from the bed and threw it over him.
Wrapped in the plastic, Mr. Gerardo began to thrash violently. “Home… I want to go home!”
“Taylor! Help your dad! Taylor!”
He was tall, and though illness had withered his frame, the sudden surge of strength from his final flare of life made him almost impossible to control.
What a terrifying thing it is – dying with unfinished love.
Yunice gritted her teeth, trying to hold him back, but she couldn’t.
His flailing arms nearly tore through her protective gear more than once.
Just as she reached a breaking point, someone suddenly rushed in from behind her, grabbed another sheet of plastic, and looped it around Mr. Gerardo’s arms, enclosing him completely.
He was restrained – trapped in the cocoon of plastic.
Mr. Gerardo struggled for a moment more, then stopped. He stared straight ahead – then collapsed backward, eyes wide open.
Yunice stood frozen, staring at the person who was still holding Mr. Gerardo tightly – Owen.
He had used every ounce of strength, his forehead veins bulging.
Corpses were heavy, and a man couldn’t carry one alone.
But Owen gritted his teeth, lifting and dragging Mr. Gerardo back to the bed, wrapping him securely in the plastic sheeting.
Then he turned and looked at Yunice, eyes scanning her protective suit.
“Did you get exposed?” he asked, voice tense with worry.
Yunice looked at the body on the bed – at Mr. Gerardo’s lifeless eyes fixed on the doorway – and quietly shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
Mr. Gerardo was gone.
From the start of the outbreak until now, not a single patient had recovered.
Their worst fear had happened.
Yunice’s energy drained. Watching strangers die was one thing. Watching someone you knew die – someone whose story you’d heard, whose loved ones you’d met – hit differently.
Owen looked at the still body, then turned to Yunice. “You need to report this. And we’ve got to start disinfecting – now.”
Yunice nodded. For the first time, she didn’t argue with Owen.
Because she didn’t have the strength to speak.
Mr. Gerardo was placed in a body bag and taken away – for mass cremation.
Just like everyone else, his family would receive nothing. No letter. No memento.
Nothing – except a short, blurry video on Yunice’s phone.
One she wouldn’t dare watch again.
Because she had been in direct contact with the infected, Yunice was pulled from volunteer duties.
She and Owen were placed in temporary quarantine for observation.
Tommy dropped off meals through the door. Seeing Yunice visibly shaken, he tried to comfort her. “Don’t worry. You kept Mr. Gerardo from breaching containment. That alone was a huge contribution.”
After closing the door, Yunice placed the meal in front of Owen, then walked to the corner of the room.
There, she picked up a two-way radio.
The food sat untouched. She had no appetite.
On the other end was Laurie. Yunice calmly reported the latest death, then – for the first time – asked, “What’s Wyatt doing right now?”
Laurie sighed. “Medical resources are stretched thin. A lot of checkpoints are holding up supplies. Some critical items, especially protective suits, are almost impossible to get…”