Chapter Ten
The pain reverberated through her skull, and it almost felt a little like déjà vu. The tiny hammers happily pounding against Anya’s skull in thousands of different places had to go. The bloody devils seemed particularly focused on her forehead above her eyes. She was afraid to open her eyelids for fear of what she might discover. What happened to her? She couldn’t remember how she’d hurt herself, and she wasn’t certain she wanted to.
Then she remembered, and her eyelids flew open. Bright light greeted her along with the gentlebeep, beepof a nearby monitor. The room was stark white with soft yellow highlights. It wasn’t her bedchamber, or Anastasia’s, it looked like a hospital room. A simple room with a little space and not much to offer it.
“You’re awake,” a female said suddenly. Her voice was warm and comforting. “You had us so worried. Your mother will be ecstatic.”
Anya turned toward the sound of the voice. She blinked several times to bring the person into focus. “Lorelei?” Her cousin sat near the bed, knitting a blanket. Her cinnamon red hair was pulled back away from her face at the sides, but the rest of it hung at her shoulder in waves, and her hazel eyes held a warmth similar to the tone of her voice.
“Where am I?” She tried to sit up and groaned. She’d been shot. Anya clearly remembered Dierk pointing the gun at her head and firing, but that had been Anastasia. He’d killed her, and it had returned her home… She had been hurt, but somehow she doubted her wounds were from a gun. “What happened?”
“You poor dear,” Lorelei said. “You really don’t remember?” She put her knitting needles together and folded the blanket and then shoved it all into a nearby tote. “There was an accident at the event. Something about a clumsy boy and some boxes. I’m not entirely certain how it all happened, but you hit your head hard, and you’ve been in a coma for a few weeks.”
“Weeks?” She gasped. In a weird way that almost made sense. “I…” She swallowed hard and took a deep breath.
“I’m so sorry,” Lorelei told her. “I’ll go get a nurse. The doctor will want to check on you now that you’re awake. I’ll also call your parents. You know how your mama frets.”
She was out of the room before Anya could stop her. Her mother meant well, but she could be difficult. She’d rather her mother stayed away until she was able to acclimate to her surroundings. It all had seemed so real, but she’d been in a coma the entire time. How had she imagined it all? They were all people she hadn’t known or even heard their names before her weird coma induced dream. Though there had been one person there she’d met previously—Lady Vivian. Perhaps she should explore that. It could be that Lady Vivian had mentioned some of the individuals from her dream.
“I hear someone is awake,” a woman said as she entered the room. She wore a full white apron over an indigo dress. Her ebony locks were pulled back into a ponytail and she had eyes so blue they were almost eerie. “I’m your nurse. You can call me Sara.”
“Hello,” Anya said a little apprehensively. The nurse was way too perky. “When can I leave?”
She chuckled lightly. “You woke up a little while ago. I’m not so certain you’re leaving until the doctor has a chance to check on you. You’re here at the very least until tomorrow when he does his rounds.”
Anya didn’t want to wait that long. She hated hospitals, and she wanted to be home, and crawl into her own bed. Maybe once she was there she’d find it comforting and she could forget the trauma of living someone else’s life. A bang echoed through the room, and she jumped from the sound.
“Easy,” Sara said soothingly as she placed her hand on Anya’s shoulder. “Someone dropped a metal tray. It happens.”
Her hand shook a little as she lifted it to Sara’s and removed it from her shoulder. She didn’t want her comfort. It felt wrong somehow. Everything inside of her screamed as if something was missing and she could never find it again. If she closed her eyes, she could see Dierk pointing his gun at her and squeezing the trigger.
It had seemed so real, and the pain…it had been equally intense. Almost as if she had actually felt it as she bled out on the pavement. If it had really happened though…then both Arthur and Ana were dead. Somehow, she’d survived, but they would still be gone forever. That hurt more than she liked. Tears threatened to fall from her eyes, but she swallowed the agony. Now was not the time to give in to her emotional chaos.
“I’m all right.” She glanced away, not wanting the nurse to see how unsettled that sound had actually made her. It had reminded her of the gunshot, and it had been almost as if that pain hit her again. It was like she had lived through that experience, and it hadn’t been the dream she believed it to be.
“I don’t believe you, but I’ll let you keep your secrets, for now,” Sara told her. “I’ll get your vitals and leave you in peace. I suspect your family will descend upon you soon enough. They’ve all been worried about you.”
She feared the nurse was right. “I’m sorry if they’ve been difficult.”
“Not at all.” Sara waved her hand. “They love you and that is always good to witness.” She gestured toward Anya’s wrist. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to check your pulse.”
Anya lifted her wrist. The sooner the nurse finished she’d leave. Of course, once her parents arrived, she wouldn’t have any peace for some time to come. She didn’t blame them. If she had a child and they were in a coma for weeks, she’d be worried too, and if she hadn’t been through a trauma she might be more sympathetic.
The nurse finished taking her vitals and wrote them down in the chart. “All done.” She smiled. “If you need anything, do not be afraid to call.”
“Thank you,” she said. Her throat was a little parched, but she didn’t want to ask the nurse for anything. She wanted a little bit of quiet before her mother and father showed up. Lorelei would still be around too. She’d left her knitting bag on the floor next to the chair. Her cousin wouldn’t want to leave that behind.
The nurse nodded and left her alone. She had a few minutes at least until chaos descended…
* * *
Anya stared out the window,wishing she was outside. She was leaving the hospital finally. The doctor had kept her three days past the day she’d woken up. She was itching to escape. Sleep had evaded her, and when she did close her eyes, images of Arthur’s death plagued her. She had to find out if he was real, if Anastasia existed, and if they had really died so tragically. She hadn’t loved Arthur, but Anastasia might have. Anya might have fallen for him if she’d had time. She had cared for him. He was brave and had helped her through her own foolishness. If there ever was a man she could have loved, it would have been him. She owed it to them to uncover their story, and she knew exactly where to begin her search.
“Are you ready, dear?” Her mother asked. Eleanor Montgomery, the Countess of Parkdale’s dark blonde hair was cropped short and framed her face. She wore an elegant burgundy suit that hugged her slim frame.
“I’ve been ready for days,” she answered. “Where’s Father?”
“He went to get the car.” She smiled. “You know how he is. He can’t sit still.”
