“How are you feeling, sweetie?” Mom said, gently brushing my hair behind my ear and stroking my cheek.
I tried to speak but nothing came out. My throat was too dry. I lifted my fingers to my neck.
There was a glass and a jug of water sitting on the table near Jane, and she quickly filled the glass and handed it to me, her hands shaking slightly.
I sipped the water slowly, under the direction of Mom as she supported the back of my head. When the dryness in my throat was gone, I handed the glass over to Mom’s waiting hand and lowered my head back to the pillows.
“Are you in any pain?” Mom asked.
There were subtle aches all over my body, but nothing intense.
I shook my head and then asked, “How long was I out?”
My mother’s eyes softened. “Almost three days, sweetie. You lost a lot of blood.”
I could see it. Not literally but in my blurred memories. Coating my hand and my shirt. His hands and shirt; his arms and the back seat of his car.
The rest of the hospital room was empty. The chairs nearby only had my family’s belongings sitting in them.
He doesn’t like hospitals.
The thought of Kira hit me in a heartbeat. “Where’s Kira?”
“She's safe. Bruised but safe.” Mom smiled faintly, smoothing out my hair again. “She gave her statement to the police—”
“And Aiden?” His name brought back the memories sharper than before.
My mother registered the change and answered carefully. “He was hospitalized with some very serious injuries.”
“He’s here?”
“Yes. But far from Kira, and you,” she reassured, gently holding my hand.
Jane scoffed, though her nose was a little stuffy. “I doubt he’s going to be walking anytime soon. He’s practically a pretzel thanks to De—”
“Jane,” Mom warned quietly.
I closed my eyes at the mention of him, but he wasn’t the reason I was suddenly uncomfortable. The thought of Aiden being in the same building had made my stomach twist.
“All that matters now is that you’re awake,” Mom continued, smoothing out the creases in the bed sheets before her eyes subtly narrowed on Jane. “We will be keeping the conversations positive while she rests.”
“Fine...” Jane murmured.
Voices in the corridor brought our attention to the doorway across the room as Dad returned with the doctor in tow. Her smile was warm and welcoming against her brown skin when she saw I was awake. Her first question was if I knew my name, the month, and where I was. When I got those right, she wanted to check my bandages. She asked my family to wait behind the curtain as she pulled it around my bed for privacy.
I carefully rolled onto my left side, schooling my features as pain sliced up my right side with the movement.
She asked if I consented to her opening the gown and I nodded, keeping my eyes closed as she began the examination. I found myself unable to look down as she did. I didn’t have to when I could feel the entry and exit wounds already, scarring my body for the rest of my life. I shouldn’t have cared so much. There was more to a person than appearance. But they were ugly reminders of something horrible.
“The bullet miraculously missed hitting any vital organs,” the doctor said when she finished with the check-up and pulled the curtain back. She returned to the end of the bed while Mom and Dad came to my sides. Jane was nowhere in sight.
“What happens now?” Dad asked.
“She’ll stay here for a week or so, and take things easy,” the doctor replied, explaining I still needed to be monitored for any changes.
I zoned out while I processed it all, staring blankly at the hospital blankets. Looking at, but not seeing, what lay beneath all the layers, I carefully smoothed my hand over the top of the blanket, lost in my thoughts until the doctor pulled me from them again.
“You’re extremely lucky, Lily,” she said.
