I didn’t know how to explain the creeping feeling going up my back, or how these sights and smells were too familiar. Darkness and white bed sheets, the distant moaning of someone in pain. The nurses paced the hall outside the room like ghosts, too quiet, and wanting me to be quiet too.
My voice dropped to a hushed tone as I asked, “Please, can we go?”
Kit’s face twisted in a frown. “You need fluids and rest. And I…” He scrubbed at the back of his neck, and his head hung low. “This is my fault.”
He did that too much. Apologized and blamed himself for everything. But I didn’t want to talk about it when I couldn’t force my mind to focus on anything besides the scuffle of feet passing by outside, and my inability to decide which was worse: the thought of the nurses coming, or leaving.
“I knew it was poison,” I said. “I would’ve taken it anyway.”
Kit remained at the bedside, looking down at me. “Because you trust me.”
I nodded.
His brows drew together. “Still?”
I bobbed my head again and tried to keep from sounding frantic as I repeated my question. “Can we go?”
Indecision pulled at Kit’s features. He glanced toward the open doorway, then back at me, but he didn’t meet my eyes. “Nora will look after you. You’re safe here.”
“Kit…” His name was a sob, and I hated the sound of it. I drew up my knees and tried to stand from the bed, but the sheets tangled around me, pulling like ropes on my feet.
Breaths came quicker, bringing the same lightheadedness I’d felt at the graveyard. Before I realized it, my whole body was shaking. I reached out and caught Kit’s sleeve. “I want to go home.” Tears burned my eyes as I looked up at him. “Please take me home.”
Kit’s attention flicked from me to a nurse bustling past the open doorway. “Back to the farm?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Home with you.”
He looked at the mess I’d made of the blankets and my trapped legs. “Penny, you aren’t well.” There was no conviction in his voice. “You need to stay, and I’ll be back before morning.”
Tightness seized my chest again, constricting my breaths. I worked my grip around Kit’s arm and squeezed so hard it made my fingers ache. “Don’t go. I’m okay. I’m good. I’ll be good. I don’t want to stay here. Please…” The string of words petered out, strangled by sobs competing for limited air. I was choking, straining, feeling light, empty, and yet full of terror.
It was like being nine again, left to languish for weeks between infrequent family visits. The mission was miles from our farm, and with the whole family working other jobs to make ends meet, they had few opportunities to travel to see Sayla and me.
I’d begged them, too. I’d cried and pleaded until Mother slapped my face and scolded me for not being grateful for the care I’d received, which only made her cry as well.
I trembled while Kit stood by, warring with exhaustion and confusion. He bent in and reached toward me, but I grabbed that hand, too, trying to pull him in.
More pleas tumbled out, the same things repeated along with promises that I didn’t need a doctor, I just needed to get away from there. I swore I’d do anything as long as he didn’t leave me.
A coughing fit overtook further protest, wringing out what little air I’d managed to take in and making my head swim. I focused my energy on clinging on to Kit, wishing I could climb out of the bed and into his arms.
The commotion drew a few of the nurses who’d been milling by. They called back and forth to each other in the hall, shouting words I didn’t understand as they filed through the doorway and flocked around the bed.
“Sir, you need to go now,” one of them told Kit, and barred an arm across his chest to push him away.
I lost my grip as he staggered back, and the nurses crowded into the space he left behind.
“Kit!” I called out, though the sound was little more than a whine.
Three nurses surrounded me. One went to each side, taking me by the shoulders and pushing me flat against the mattress. I bit my lip to stifle a whimper at the sight of the third coming up from the foot of the bed holding a bottleand folded rag. She shook liquid onto the cloth while she closed in.
“What is that?” Kit’s voice carried from somewhere unseen. “What are you doing?”
“Your friend needs to calm down,” the nurse with the rag answered.
The women at my sides pressed harder, leveraging all their weight until I was firmly pinned. Tears ran down my face as I squeezed my eyes shut, not wanting to see what was coming.
Kit’s voice rose again, gruff and near a shout. “Stop it! You’re scaring him.”
