And then nothing.
Chapter 12
My eyes blinked open. Tara was kneeling beside me, her hand wrapped around mine. Her face was drawn tight with worry.
“Emily,” she said sharply. “Emily, wake up.”
Her clothes were different, dry, but her hair was damp. She must have just gotten out of the shower.
“What...what happened?” My voice came out groggy. I glanced down at my hands. The pig figures were gone. I sat up fast, my heart racing, my eyes shooting to the vanity.
Nothing.
Just an empty surface. The dress and shoes were also gone.
“How is this possible?” I muttered.
Tara steadied me, slipping an arm around my back to help me up.
“Can you walk to the bed?” she asked softly. “Lie down. I’ll grab my phone and—”
“No!” The word shot out of me. Everything felt wrong. The pigs were gone, but the little red dots remained on my hands.
“The woman . . .” I said.
Tara’s expression snapped to something worse than concern. Panic. Like she’d just realized she might be dealing with more than a fainting spell.
“What woman?” she asked.
Shit. No. I couldn’t go there. Couldn’t become the unhinged one, not on day one.
The window behind her showed nothing but darkness. It was evening. Daniel should be back soon. Suddenly, I realizedthat I hadn’t taken my medication today. No antidepressant. No anxiety pill. Not a single dose of anything.
Still. That shouldn’t cause this. So I had to make something up, anything, just to keep things from blowing up.
“Can you walk over to the bed so I can grab my phone and call Da—”
“No. I’m okay,” I cut in, moving toward the door. I wouldn’t lie down on his parents’ bed. And I wanted to leave the room, to be honest. “I’m fine, really.”
Apparently, she didn’t believe me. She followed close behind. Questions buzzed in my head as I walked down the hallway. Hadn’t Tara seen the woman and the pig statues? What about the open door downstairs? Had it even been open?
I stayed silent.
If Daniel got wind of any of this, he might want to leave. He’d have to give up time here with his family. Ignore his own healing, for me, again. And I really liked it here too.
“I must’ve fainted,” I said, forcing a small laugh. “God, I’m so stupid.” I scolded myself as if I were a kid caught doing something reckless. “I’m on blood pressure meds. I have really high blood pressure. Just like my mom. Runs in the family. The doctor bumped up my dose right before we came here. Told me not to take it alone. Or standing. And of course, I did both.”
None of this was true. But it was believable. I hated to lie, but it was better than the truth. Whatever that even was.
“Ooooh,” Tara said, her doubt seeming to melt away. She looked at me like I was suddenly normal again. Not crazy. Just a woman who’d taken the wrong dose of her pills.
“What are you on?” she asked.
“Lisinopril,” I said. The lie came easily. My mom had been on it for years, and I’d picked it up for her before.
“I was on that,” Tara replied as she guided me into my room and toward the bed. “My doctor switched me to a calciumchannel blocker. If you’re still not feeling right in a few days, talk to your doctor. Tell him you want something else. Or maybe we should just call him now?”
I shook my head, settling back against the headboard and kicking off my shoes before stretching my legs. Tara fluffed the pillow behind me like she’d done this before, probably for her kids.
