PROLOGUE
Four years ago
The hospital room felt crowded. Anna lay on the bed, the surgeon on one side of her and a nurse on the other. At the end of the bed, her parents were waiting, their arms around each other and their faces tight with forced smiles. Anna felt as if she was suffocating. She wanted to tell everyone to go away. To leave her hidden behind the bandages. She knew what was coming, and she didn’t have the courage to face it.
The surgeon slipped on a pair of sterile gloves. ‘If you’re ready, Anna. It might pull a bit, but there shouldn’t be any real pain.’
He was right about the pain. Whatever pain was involved in removing the dressing from her face, it would be nothing compared to the pain she’d felt when a dying bull had torn her flesh with its horns. Or the pain she felt know knowing it was her own foolishness in trying to save the animal that had left her scarred for life. Today, she would find out just how bad those scars would be.
The skin on her shoulder twitched involuntarily. That dressing would also come off, but that wasn’t the reason she was quivering with fear. It was her face, and what she might see when the dressings were removed, that scared her.
‘It’ll be fine, darling.’ Her father’s words seemed forced.
The surgeon patted her hand. ‘Now remember, there’s a lot of bruising around the site. And of course all the stitches are still there. Give it time to heal. Once the bruising is gone and the stitches come out, it will look a lot better. And it will improve over time.’
He didn’t mention nerve damage. Anna had been warned about that. They wouldn’t know how much nerve damage she’d suffered until the wounds healed.
‘Do it.’ The swelling on the left side of her face had begun to recede and it was much easier to speak.
Assisted by his nurse, the surgeon began removing the dressings. His hands were gentle, and all Anna felt was a bit of slight tugging. The bandages came away freely. There were no bloodstains, and that was a bit surprising. How could a wound like this not leave bloodstains on the dressing? Maybe it wasn’t as bad as she thought it was. Anna allowed herself a few moments of hope as first her chin, then her cheek and finally her forehead were exposed.
She watched the surgeon’s face as he closely examined his handiwork.
He nodded. ‘That’s healing really well, Anna. There’s a bit of a way to go yet, but so far, I’m pleased.’
He stood back and Anna heard a gasp from the end of the bed as her mother saw the damage for the first time. Her lips parted, but she said nothing as colour drained from her face and her eyes filled with tears.
Her father’s arms tightened around his wife’s shoulders. ‘That looks like it’s healing well.’ His voice was tight as his eyes moved from Anna’s face to the doctor. And then he looked down at his wife.
Anna knew why. He couldn’t bear to look at his daughter’s ruined face.
‘You understand there’s a lot of healing still to do.’ The surgeon’s voice seemed very loud in the silence that had fallen. ‘There doesn’t appear to be too much nerve damage. After the stitches come out, we can start some treatment on the skin to reduce the scarring.’
There was a hurried tap on the door and it opened to reveal a huge basket of fruit. The bearer walked into the room and lowered it. Her boyfriend, Richard.
‘Hi …’ His voice trailed off as his face froze in a combination of shock and horror.
Anna wanted to crawl under the sheets. She and Rich had been going out for almost six months. He was handsome and smart and funny and caring. She had thought the relationship was going somewhere. Maybe even marriage. He’d been to the hospital every day since the accident.
‘Hello, Rich.’ Anna’s father tried to break the awful tension in the room.
‘I brought …’ Rich’s eyes darted around the group of people. Every time he looked at Anna, he looked away quickly.
Anna couldn’t stand it any longer. ‘Can I have a mirror please?’
‘It will look a lot better in a day or two,’ the nurse assured her, but no one moved to pick up the hand mirror that was sitting on the tray next to the bowl containing the bandages that had just been taken from Anna’s face.
‘The mirror. Please.’
When the nurse passed it to her, Anna didn’t wait. She lifted it immediately, before she lost her courage. She looked. Closed her eyes then opened them to look again.
She was hideous.
The deep purple and blue and red bruising that covered most of her face was nothing. It would fade. And the stitches would be removed in time. But the livid red mark and puckered skin that ran across her left cheek and down to her chin would never disappear. Its size and ugliness were highlighted by the smaller, neater wound on her forehead.
Anna looked at herself as long as she could, then lowered the mirror, vowing not to look in it again.
At the foot of the bed, her mother was crying silently into her father’s shoulder. He was looking at Anna with such love and pity that she too wanted to cry. She fought the feeling down. She would cry another time, but right now, she had to be brave. For her parents, and for herself too, because if she fell apart she might never find herself again.
