“Kara, stop bossing me.”
“When you stop being so stubborn, I will. Please, honey, just lie down and stop moving around so much.”
I nod, but it’s because of how much the pain increases when I try to sit up that I lie back down. It’s blinding, how quickly it comes on and how sharp it is.
“Where’s Kaz?” I question.
There’s no answer.
I try to look around the room, but my vision is blurry. The tall man in white has a shadow, or are there two of them? I can’t tell.
“Kara. Where’s Kaz?” I demand.
A monitor beeps then an alarm rings. They all start talking again above me. Words like surgery, blood loss, fever are thrown around. But no one will answer where Kaz is.
“My throat.” I grab Kara’s hand.
“Her throat hurts.” She relays to the doctor.
“That’s from the breathing tube during the procedure. It should get better in the next day or so. Sienna, you have broken ribs, which is why it probably hurts when you take a deep breath.” He puts on his stethoscope. “Which, unfortunately, I need you to do so I can hear your lungs.”
He’s right about the deep breath. A brand new pain shoots through me.
“We’re going to give her something a little stronger for the pain, and I’m going to have the pulmonologist come take a look. She’s still having trouble getting a good breath.”
“No, I’m not,” I say. It hurts, but I can breathe fine.
It’s this fog in my brain bothering me the most. I can barely see them, and everything they say gets jumbled up.
“Where’s Kaz?” I try to scream, but still they go on talking.
“A few more days is most likely. We can slow the sedative tomorrow, but for now the more rest she gets, the better.”
“Wait.” I grab Kara’s hand. “What procedure? Did I have surgery?”
The doctor’s eyes swing to Kara.
“What is it?” I groan when I move too fast and a pain shoots through my chest.
“You needed surgery, honey. Your ribs caused some damage, and the doctors needed to help you,” Kara says softly.
“I’m going to do a quick abdominal exam. I’m just going to press on your stomach, so I can feel your uterus.” The man in white presses down on my stomach, and I groan.
“You’re hurting her.” A deep voice accuses the man in white. It sounds angry. Threatening.
“I’m checking to be certain her uterus is healing.”
“Uterus? Kara, what happened?”
“Honey, you were pregnant,” Kara says softly.
The words don’t fit. They slide over me like oil; I can’t grab onto them.
I wasn’t pregnant. I couldn’t have been.
I would have known.
The man in white keeps talking, but all I can hear is my heartbeat raging in my ears.
