Page 71 of Don’t Open Your Eyes

She threw her hands up. “No, no, of course not. I’m just saying, stop micromanaging me. I feel like you’re always hovering and lecturing. Our daughter has been reaching out to a stranger because we weren’t paying attention. I just want you to leave me alone right now.” She had read through all the texts over and over, looking for any clue as to who this Ben might be. It was clear to her how cleverly he had found out where Scarlett went to school and where she lived. She had no idea what the texts about her and James hiding something meant. The detectives said they could tell that some of the texts had been deleted and were working on recovering them. The man must have manufactured some sort of lies about them. Annabelle was so upset with herself for not monitoring Scarlett’s phone—for foolishly elevating her privacy over her safety.

“There’s obviously a lot going on right now. This is clearly not a good time for a discussion.” James handed her one of the cups. “Here. I’ll get out of your hair. I’ll be back later this afternoon.”

Annabelle couldn’t bring herself to respond and merely stood watching as he walked away. Was she blaming him? A little. But she was also blaming herself. When did she stop listening to her own instincts and allow James to run her life? She was a smart, capable woman, yet she kowtowed to him in too many ways. Scarlett had been acting so distant, angry even, and Annabelle had ignored it. She’d told herself that it was normal teenage sullenness, when it had been a cry for help. All those questions Scarlett had asked her about true love and love at first sight—she should have read between the lines and realized that Scarlett was asking for a more personal reason. Instead, she’d let some predator into her life, who’d then almost killed her. Annabelle needed answers. What was she supposed to do next?

Her phone pinged: a message from Chase, asking how Scarlett was. He’d been so supportive, checking in every day, even arranging to have lunch sent to her on a couple days, with a note telling her she needed a break from hospital food.

The police hadn’t been able to find the owner of the Instagram account. It had been deactivated and had been set up using an untraceable Gmail account. They were waiting on a warrant to get information from Instagram about the IP address of the deactivated account. They had questioned Avery at length, but she didn’t have any other helpful information. The poor girl felt guilty for keeping the information to herself, but Annabelle didn’t blame her. That’s what best friends did. She’d certainly kept her own share of secrets over the years.

This mystery man was out there somewhere. What if he tried to come to the hospital and hurt Scarlett? The police didn’t think that was likely and wouldn’t agree to station anyone outside her room. But it was another reason that Annabelle wouldn’t leave. She didn’t trust anyone else to keep her daughter safe.

Scarlett uttered a soft noise, and Annabelle jumped up and stood next to the bed.

“Sweetie, can you hear me? It’s Mom. I’m right here.”

She took Scarlett’s hand in hers. “You’re safe now. No one can hurt you.” She tried to make her voice sound confident, but in her heart, she didn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth.

Scarlett

Everything hurt. Where was she? It was dark and cold. Scarlett tried to open her eyes, but it was like they were glued shut. There was something on her arm squeezing it now and then, and beeps and hissing sounds all around her. She tried to speak, but it was like she was underwater. Her throat burned too. And she was tired. So tired. What had happened? She tried to remember. Ben. She was meeting Ben. But he wasn’t there. A man. A man who knew her name. It was all wrong. She’d run from the coffee shop and he called after her. She’d jumped on her bike. She pedaled faster and faster, cutting through the alley for a shortcut. That was the last thing she remembered.

Her mom was talking. She strained to make out what she was saying, but she could only catch a word here and there. Her body felt so heavy. Was she dreaming? Maybe it was sleep paralysis. She’d heard about that before, maybe even had it happen once or twice. That terrible feeling when you want to move, but it’s like invisible bricks are on top of you. That’s what this felt like. She didn’t like it.

Her mom was talking again. No, she was reading. Oh, she was reading Scarlett a story. Like she used to at bedtime. Why was she reading to her, and why couldn’t Scarlett move? Think, think. Her bike. Trying to get away. From Ben. No, not Ben. A man who was pretending to be Ben. But why? She tried to remember, but only snatches of visions came to her. She recalled waiting in the coffee shop, excited, anxious, looking at the door every time it opened, expecting to see him. Then that man walked over to her table and sat down. Avery had been right. He was preying on her. She had to get away from him. This liar. A weirdo.

She felt someone touching her, rubbing her arm. “I love you, Scarlett. I’m here.”

Her dad. She wanted to tell him she could hear him, but she couldn’t speak.

“I’m so sorry, Scarlett. This should never have happened.” Her dad’s voice sounded funny. Was he crying?

Annabelle

Annabelle and James both stood up as Dr. Matthias came into the hospital room. He said hello, went straight to Scarlett, and lifted an eyelid, flashing a light in it. He did the same with the other eye. He then inspected the intraventricular catheter site and reviewed the readings on the external monitor.

“I’m pleased to see her pupils are reacting to light, and her ICP pressure is down significantly at seventeen. We need to get to fifteen before we can start to wean her off sedation. Have you noticed any movement?”

“Not much. Some moaning, but that’s about it,” Annabelle said.

“That’s okay. We’re getting there. We need to stay the course. Her vitals are good. Blood pressure’s still a little elevated, but we’ll keep an eye on that. How are Mom and Dad holding up?”

James merely shook his head. Annabelle could see that he was fighting tears. “We’re hanging in there. Thank you for taking such good care of her.”

“Of course. I’ll be back to check on her again later this afternoon. And you have my cell if you need anything at all.”

Once he left, they sat back down. “You should get to the office. It won’t do for both of us to neglect our work,” Annabelle said.

“It’s okay. I pushed my appointments to the afternoon. Why don’t you go home for a few hours to get a change of scenery? You haven’t left the hospital in ten days.” James had been bringing her changes of clothing, and she’d been showering and getting dressed here.

She shook her head. “No, I can’t.” She couldn’t make him understand that something was telling her if she left, Scarlett would die. Annabelle knew it was an irrational fear, but she wasn’t about to test it. She’d made a promise to Scarlett that she wouldn’t leave until she woke up, and Annabelle was determined not to break her promise.

James turned to look at her. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but we have to face facts. Scarlett could be in this state for a long time. There’s so much we don’t know about the brain. The fact that she didn’t regain consciousness after the accident is not a good sign.”

Annabelle wanted to reach out and slap him. “Why are you telling me this?”

“I’m only trying to prepare you. You can’t live in the hospital for months.”

She stood up, furious. “She’s not going to be here for months. Dr. Matthias said her pressure is almost back to normal, and they’ll bring her out of this soon. Why are you being so negative?”