Alex appeared in front of me, his mouth was moving, but I couldn’t make sense of what he was trying to say before my legs buckled and I landed harshly on my knees just as my arms losttheir grip on Arizona, going limp as we both dropped to the floor.
My vision went dark before returning to see bright overhead lights on the ceiling, and a flurry of faces, warped like reflections rippling in water, appeared. With every part of my mind and body going numb, I succumbed to darkness, hoping like hell this wasn’t the end.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Lily
Iwoke with a sharp gasp, squinting my eyes against the harsh fluorescent lights above. Every inch of my body ached with a numbness that didn’t make any sense, and my mind was too slow on the uptake, unable to connect the dots on what had happened to land me where I was and why.
Darkness threatened to pull me under again, tugging relentlessly with an unwavering persistence, making my eyelids heavy as it lured me toward the edge, half-suspended between a conscious and an unconscious state, even as I fought to resist the latter.
Muffled voices caught my attention, renewing my hope for answers, but the steady hum buzzing behind my head hindered my ability to hear them clearly.
Waking up to find myself in an isolation room in a hospital was never a situation I’d imagined, but the true terror wasn’t the sterile walls or the quarantine; it was the fact that I was utterly alone.
That thought sent an unsolicited wave of fear coursingthrough me, while dread dropped anchor in my stomach. I tried to move, but not one part of my body responded. I sucked in a jagged breath of confusion as another heart-stopping jolt of reality hit me.
Was I paralyzed?
My chest tightened painfully, causing panic to claw up my throat while my eyes darted around the room in frantic bursts, searching for something, anything that I could focus on. All I could see with my nonexistent range of motion from my half-upright bed angle was a whiteboard hanging on the wall directly ahead, the edge of a window to my left with a portable HEPA Filtration machine under it, and the glint of a sliding glass door to my right. The world narrowed to these limited fragments as trepidation pressed on my chest, suffocating and heavy.
One of the monitors above my head abruptly started beeping loudly and erratically, which thankfully would alert someone at the nurses’ station to my distress.
Time seemed to stop while I waited, helpless, other than my ability to stare at the ceiling or wall. I willed myself to focus on my breathing, knowing I needed to steady it. Panicking, while a natural response and the one currently barreling down on me with vengeance, wasn’t going to help the situation, whatever it would be, and I knew it.
I was in the midst of a grounding technique I often gravitated to when I needed to calm myself when the sliding glass door to my room opened, and a person in a full hazmat suit entered.
My lips parted, and I felt tiny little cracks pierce through the skin around my mouth from what I was guessing was extreme dryness. I tried to wet them with my tongue but had no luck.
“Here, let me help,” a female voice offered. “Just take small sips and focus on slowing your breath for me.”
“Than—k.” My voice croaked.
“Please don’t try to talk. You need to rest.” I took another sip from the straw in the Styrofoam cup she was holding. “I know you must be feeling alarmed, dear; the numbness in your limbs will hopefully start to ease up soon.”
My eyes widened, scared because what if it didn’t?
“You were lucky to be found when you were and?—”
The doors opened again, and another person in a hazmat suit stepped through, holding an iPad.
“Hello, Lily, I’m glad to see you’re awake.” He smiled through the plastic face screen. “I’m Doctor Holt, and I’ve taken the lead on your case. Are you able to squeeze my hand?”
I watched as he slipped his glove-covered hand under my palm. I felt nothing and couldn’t move my fingers.
“Okay, it’s really important for you to stay calm and not get agitated. I promise you’re on the right path to getting better. Are you able to blink once to confirm you can hear me?”
I blinked.
“That’s good. I’m glad you’re alert and able to respond. Do you know who you are? One blink for yes, two for no.”
I blinked once.
“Excellent. That’s great, Lily. I’m sure you’re eager for answers, and I’ll do my best to bring you up to speed, but first, I want to assess your pain level. I’ll count slowly from one to ten, one being the lowest and ten being the highest. Do you understand?”
I blinked.
“Okay, please blink when I reach your pain level. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven?—”
