Arching against the electricity that was being forced through her body, Mikah inhaled deeply, the air wheezing through her constricted throat. She opened her eyes in shock, waiting for the impact of her body against the rocks below. It didn’t come, though pain infused every part of her. Around her, red lights were flashing, just as they’d been in her dream. People were everywhere, their faces morphing under the undulating light. One hovered over her, eyes filled with concern, and her eyes closed once more in confusion. “Ian?”
“She’s back, she’s back!”
The voices shouted over one another, and she opened her eyes again just as a mask was placed over her mouth. Mikah inhaled the oxygen, the purified air sending her head spinning more than the bewilderment already was. “What happened?” she mumbled into the mask.
“Try to relax, Miss Bauer,” one man—a paramedic by the look of him—said. “You were hit by a car, do you remember?”
Car?She shook her head. No, she had fallen. Fallen from the balcony and been shot. She’d been shot! Frantically, Mikah lifted a hand to her arm, only to feel nothing.
“Just relax, Miss Bauer,” the paramedic insisted. “You’re going to be fine.”
Fine?
She looked around at the faces hovering around her, frantic with confusion. Where was she? Where was Ian? Who were all these people? Then out of the crowd of bystanders, she recognized a face. From weeks ago. A lifetime ago. Myles Gordon, the curator of GoMA, was there, as well as the intern from the front desk. Where was Ian? Mikah struggled to pull the mask from her face. She needed to ask. She needed to find out what had happened. She needed to find Ian.
“Where is he?” Panic tainted her slurred words.
“The man who hit you is being taken into custody,” Myles said, kneeling by her side. “There were witnesses aplenty. Drunk driver.”
“No, where is Ian?” Mikah frantically denied the truth that was already sinking its claws into her. “He was just here.”
Myles frowned and traded quizzical glances with the paramedics. “I’m sorry, Mikah. I don’t know who you are talking about.”
She closed her eyes, weak with defeat. Searching her mind, she remembered coming out of the museum. Not minutes ago but days ago. Weeks ago. The car that had transformed into a carriage just as it was about to hit her. There was the struggle, the worry… the certainty that she was going insane.
But then there’d been Ian and her surrender to the madness. Impossible love. A fantastical contentment.
What was it now? Mikah felt disappointment crashing down on her. A dream? Had it really all been just a dream?
“No,” she moaned in denial. “Please God, no.”
When Mikah woke again she was in the hospital. There was white and powder blue all around her, an IV in her arm, and an older, weary-looking man sitting by her side. He was in his fifties, a little gray but otherwise tall and fit. Her hand was enfolded in his. The dry warmth was instantly comforting.
“Papa…” Mikah swallowed against the scratchy dryness in her throat, but the words were loud enough to draw his attention.
He stood and leaned over her, brushing a tender hand against her forehead. “Hello, princess.” Caring filled Sean Bauer’s eyes as he bent over and brushed a kiss on her forehead. “You gave us quite a scare.”
“Papa,” she said again, then shook her head in confusion.
“Papa?” he repeated with mock amusement. “I think you’ve been here too long if you’re talking like that and have already picked up an accent, Mikes.”
She had an accent? The right word came to her then and she squeezed his hand. “Daddy.”
“There you go,” he said with a smile, but it immediately changed to a frown when she tried to move. “No, don’t try to move. Just lay still.”
“What happened?” Part of her knew but the other part was still lost in bewilderment. Or was it denial?
“You were hit by a drunk driver.”
“I-I walked in front of him.” She recalled the moment. “I forgot the cars were on the other side of the road.”
Her father shook his head. “Either way, he was still drunk and he’ll pay the price for it. We’re just lucky that you’re going to be all right. The doctor told me that they thought they had lost you there for a minute.”
“Lost me?”
“They said your heart stopped beating for over a minute.” His voice shook with emotion as he rubbed her hand between his.
“I died.” She spoke the words dully, but the truth lingered inside of her. Shehaddied, and a part of her remained so. In her mind, Mikah saw it all again. The fight. The gunshots.
