Chapter 5: Echoes of Mrs. Clara

At first, she thought she was imagining things. Eli had been supposed to stay in his room, resting. She had even helped give him some medication to ease his recovery. And yet, there he was, walking the halls in the middle of the night, completely absorbed in some invisible task.

As Miss Macall approached, she caught fragments of his murmured words. His voice was soft, but she could clearly hear him say a name.

"Mrs. Clara..."

Miss Macall paused. She knew that name. Mrs. Clara had been one of the long-term patients here at the hospital, an elderly woman in room 222. She had passed away a few months ago. The mention of her name sent a small shiver down the nurse's spine, and she quickened her steps.

"Eli," she called softly, careful not to startle him. "What are you doing out here, sweetie?"

Eli didn't turn around immediately. His eyes were fixed on something down the corridor, as though he were watching someone. Miss Macall followed his gaze, but all she saw was the darkened hallway, empty and silent. There was no one there.

When she reached him, she gently touched his shoulder. Eli blinked and looked up at her, as if only just realizing she was there. His small face was calm, his eyes wide but peaceful.

"What are you doing out here again?" she asked, her voice laced with concern.

Eli glanced down at the plastic shovel in his hand. The nurse followed his gaze and saw that it was covered in dirt. There were traces of soil on his hospital gown too, smudged in faint streaks, as though he had been digging somewhere. But that made no sense.

"I was helping Mrs. Clara," Eli said, his voice matter-of-fact, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Miss Macall felt her heart skip a beat. "Helping her?"

He nodded. "She asked me to get something for her daughter."

Miss Macall stared at him, the words hanging heavily between them. She knew Eli had synesthesia and sometimes saw or felt things that others couldn't. But this... this was different. He was speaking about someone who had been gone for months as if she were still here.

A chill ran through her as she glanced down the hall toward room 222, half-expecting to see something—anything—out of place. But there was only darkness.

"Mrs. Clara?" she repeated. "You mean... the lady who used to stay here?"

Eli frowned, as though the question confused him. "Yeah, the grandma. In room 222."

The weight of his words sank into her stomach. She had checked on room 222 earlier that evening, and it was empty. It had been empty for months. Mrs. Clara had passed away peacefully, and her family had moved her belongings. So what was Eli talking about?

Without thinking, Miss Macall took the shovel from his hand. It was caked with mud—real mud, not some figment of a child's imagination. But how had he gotten it? The hospital grounds were sealed off, and even if he had snuck outside, surely someone would have noticed. She knelt down and gently brushed some of the dirt off his gown.

"Where did you get this?" she asked softly.

"From under the tree," Eli said, pointing outside toward the garden. "I had to dig up Mrs. Clara's box. She told me it was there."

Miss Macall's throat tightened. Eli wasn't joking or making things up—he was dead serious. He had dug up a box under the tree? She glanced outside, following the line of his finger to where the old oak tree stood in the hospital garden. In the dim light, she couldn't see anything unusual, but the mere thought of Eli out there alone, in the dark, digging, sent shivers down her spine.

Eli nodded, as if satisfied with his task. Miss Macall gently guided him back down the hall, her thoughts racing. She didn't know what to make of it. Eli often talked about things he felt—synesthetic experiences his parents had warned her about. He could feel the sharpness of knives without touching them, taste things that weren't there, hear emotions in objects. But this felt different. It felt real.

As they reached his room, she helped him sit on the chair by the sign-in desk. For now, she just needed to keep an eye on him. The hospital at night was already eerie enough, and she didn't want to leave him unattended.

"Stay right here, okay?" she said gently, tucking him into the chair.

Eli yawned, clearly growing tired, and nodded obediently. His eyes were still bright with something—excitement, maybe—but he was also beginning to drift. Before long, he was fast asleep, curled up with the IV drip still attached to his arm.

Miss Macall watched him for a while, her own exhaustion creeping in. She had seen strange things during the night shift before, but this... this was different. The way Eli spoke about Mrs. Clara, about helping her, and the fact that he had mud on him... it didn't add up.

Eventually, her tiredness got the best of her, and she dozed off at the desk, the faint sound of the IV machine humming beside her.

Eli smiled when he saw her, and his mother walked over to him, ruffling his hair like she always did.

"My little troublemaker," she said with a tired smile. "What were you up to last night?"

"Helping Miss Clara," Eli replied cheerfully, rubbing his eyes. "I had to get something for her daughter."

The smile on his mother's face faltered. She exchanged a worried glance with Miss Macall, her hand lingering on Eli's head a little longer than usual.

"Mrs. Clara?" she asked gently. "Eli, Mrs. Clara went away, remember? She's not here anymore."

"I know," Eli said, still smiling. "She's in Paranice now. She told me."

Miss Macall felt her stomach tighten again. She had heard that name—Paranice—before. Eli had mentioned it in his sleep sometimes, or when he was talking about imaginary places. But the way he said it now, with such certainty, sent another shiver down her spine.

"I think it's time we head home," his mother replied softly, her voice taking on a more serious tone. "Let's get you out of here."

As they left the hospital, Eli glanced back over his shoulder one last time. For a brief moment, he thought he saw someone standing near room 222, a familiar figure in a floral-print dress. Mrs. Clara.

Her eyes were kind, her face filled with that same soft smile she always had. She waved to him, and Eli smiled back, lifting his hand in a small, happy wave.

But when he blinked, she was gone.