“I don’t know,” I stated, staring at the door again. “Call information. And when you get Lion Security on the line, ask for Grigori. Do not use my name over the line. At all.” It could be fucking traced for all I knew.
The doctor nodded slowly and called information.
I tried to breathe, staring at that door, but I couldn’t take it. “Can you please open that door now?”
Doc nodded while dialing the number to Lion Security.
The truck driver jumped to open the confining door.
It was as if I could breathe again, my lungs unclenching and my vision becoming clearer even though I could barely see without my contacts. But it was good enough. I knew I wasn’t trapped. There was an outlet, so to speak.
“Can I speak with Grigori, please? This is Dr. Walker,” my doctor, whom I had forgotten the name of asked over the line. “Yes. This is urgent enough to get him out of a meeting.”
“Grigori is Daniil’s son,” I stated factually, staring outside the door, but I could still see the look the doctor gave me that clearly stated ‘no shit.’ Guess he knew the family dynamics somehow. Must read the papers.
Dr. Walker cleared his throat, and stated, “Good afternoon, Grigori. This is Dr. Walker. I have a patient in my hospital that doesn’t wish me to say her name, but I believe you may have some interest in. She’s got red hair,” I ignored that general assessment, “and green eyes, and I believe she’s who you’ve been searching for. She was found this morning—” He stopped talking abruptly, and I could hear Grigori shouting over the line.
“Yes. She’s alive and well. She just got out of surgery—” He was cut off again.
“No. Nothing life threatening—” Again, he was cut off.
“Lacrosk Hospital.” He took his phone away from his ear, and shut it, slowly placing it in his pocket. His eyes met my good working one. Doc stated softly, “I believe someone’s on their way here.”
I—almost—smiled at that.
The whole fucking family would be here, no doubt.
I cleared my throat, and asked the doctor as nonchalantly as possible, “If someone is put in isolation, completely alone, for two months…,” I stared out the door, “…could that cause hallucinations while they’re down there?” God, Daniil had seemed so real.
“Yes,” the doctor stated instantly and started on a rant about the effects of isolation on a person. And, honestly, it did make me feel better. I knew I wasn’t a loon.
Well, that was until a nurse came in and tried to shut the door. I screamed at her, having enough of this closed-door business, and got out of bed, pulling the blanket with me. The doctor argued, and my feet were also wrapped up, but I pulled the blanket over my head in hopes that no one else would recognize me and made my way out to the hallway with the doctor and truck driver following, the doctor nicely pushing the IVs for me.
I sat there and waited.
Daniil would be here soon.
But I lost track of time, staring at the wall across from me.
I flinched when the doctor, who had sat down next to me—I hadn’t even noticed—and interrupted… God, I was singing that damn Russian song. I shut my mouth quickly, and his gaze stared hard into my eye. Softly, he began telling me what I could expect from being in isolation.
Nightmares. Loss of time. General phobias of being in large crowds.
I swallowed hard and nodded. I seriously hadn’t even noticed that I had zoned out.
The wall had…I don’t know…just triggered it somehow.
I tried not to look at it again, pulling the blanket over me more.
And then, there were flashes of light and pounding of feet.
People were shouting my name.
“Call security!” Dr. Walker barked harshly at the nurse, who was coming out of another room. He jumped to his feet, rushing to meet the reporters who were running down the hallway. “Get them down here. Now!”
The nurse rushed back into the room she’d come from.
I burrowed down into the blanket more, pulling my knees up under it and hugging them the best I could with a four-month pregnant belly full of triplets. But I glared out of the blanket at the truck driver, who stood over me protectively.
