“I doubt that.”
The curtain shifts. The woman’s face appears in the gap—sharp-featured, guarded, older than I’ve first assumed. Mid-to-late twenties, maybe. The dark circles under her eyes speak of sleepless nights that occurred long before this hospital stay.
I wonder if she has children.
“What do you want from me?” she asks bluntly. “You don’t know me. I don’t know you. In a few hours, we’ll both be out of here and we’ll never see each other again. So why the interrogation?”
“Just trying to make conversation.”
“It feels like an interrogation.”
“Occupational hazard. Sorry.” I hold up my hands—well, one hand; the other is in a cast. “I’ll back off.”
She studies me for a long moment. I let her look, keeping my expression open, non-threatening. Whatever she’s running from, whoever she’s protecting herself against, I’m not it.
“I’m leaving tomorrow,” she finally says. “That’s all that matters.”
“And then what?”
“Then I go.”
“Go where?”
“Away.”
“That’s not a destination.”
She shrugs.
There’s an undercurrent to her words—a thread of desperation she can’t quite hide.
Who are you running from?
“If you need help—” I start.
“I don’t.”
“—there are resources. Shelters, legal aid, people who specialize in?—”
“I said I don’t need help.” Her voice goes sharp, a flash of heat breaking through the ice. “I just need to leave. I’ve already wasted too much time laying about here when I could do the same freaking thing at home.”
Wasted.Interesting word choice.
“Look.” Her expression hardens. “I appreciate the concern. Really. But whatever you think is going on with me, you’re wrong. I fell down some stairs. I’m fine. Tomorrow I’ll be gone and this will all be a weird memory for you. So can we just... not?”
She pulls back behind the curtain before I can respond.
I lie there in the darkness, turning the conversation over in my mind. She’s lying—that much is obvious.
Not your problem, Bright. You’ve got your own mess to deal with.
True. But everything about her nags at me.
The nurse comes in a short time later and doses me up with pain meds, silencing the rock concert in my head.
I must have dozed off eventually, because I wake to the sound of footsteps.
The pain meds have worn off enough that my senses are sharper now, and something about the room feels wrong.
