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“I wanted to stop in to see if you all had any questions?” Dr. Descartes asked.
“He’s not awake yet,” Carmine began. “Should we be concerned?”
“Despite what I say, you will be concerned,” Dr. Descartes replied. “However, I will be checking your son’s vitals to ensure that his prolonged sleep falls within the normal range of response.”
Although her response sounded callous, Carmine appreciated her forthrightness.
“Do you have a diagnosis for him?” Carmine continued, “All we know is that our son was injured, and now he’s in the hospital. We learned very little from the ER doctor.”
“I’m sure you understand that the rush to attend to the next patient impeded ER from giving you full information,” she explained. “Besides, that’s why he introduced me as quickly as he did, so I can provide further information.”
Dr. Emilia made sure to make eye contact with the family members to begin forming trust with them. Their trust in her was critical to their decision-making regarding their loved one’s care.
“Alessandro suffered several gunshot wounds, one of which nicked his heart, which speaks to why he has crashed several times. He also suffered a concussion near the top of his neck and the base of his brain stem, which accounts for the swelling and part of the reason for the bandage wrapping his head. Although he suffered several internal injuries from the gunshots, the bullets failed to hit major organs. A few of the bullets entering your son's body were through and through,” the doctor stated matter-of-factly.
“Alessandro suffered a broken nose. He also sustained several contusions and lacerations that pose no immediate risk. It will take some time for the swelling to go down and the color of his injuries to fade.”
“What can we expect?” Gabriel asked.
“I’m not sure what you mean,” Dr. Descartes replied.
“What can we expect his recovery to look like? Can we expect him to return to his old self?” Gabriel continued. “I know I’m asking you to predict, but I think it’s important that we, my parents, have realistic expectations, you know?”
“What I can say is that the next seventy-two hours will be critical in coming to any conclusions about Alessandro. We are very concerned about his heart as well as the swelling from the concussion,” Dr. Descartes explained. “Once we get past the next few days, we will hopefully be able to speak with much more certainty as to his prognosis.”
Chapter Sixteen
They waited.
Sometimes patiently, other times not so much.
Isotta felt better physically. Once she had a hot bath and a little sustenance, she felt some better. Yet mentally, psychologically, Isotta was still devastated by what happened to her. She tried to mentally block it out, to do other things to take her mind off what she’d been through, but those efforts proved futile and useless. At night, every night, every time her eyes closed, flashes of Alessandro flashed through her mind. She still felt him inside her, and she was repulsed by it every single time.
Isotta spent obligatory time with her family, but they didn’t talk about what had happened. Maybe her mother did. She wouldn’t know, but the conversation never came up at the dinner table. Isotta avoided tea and other politically correct endeavors. She didn’t want to talk about what had happened. Isotta didn’t even feel like she could call her husband for comfort. He was selfish. She knew it. Maybe, finally, Isotta had to accept it.
She couldn’t. The one thing she did want was her sister, Valentina. She’d always missed her, and even when she guiltily married, and even after, Isotta still missed her sister. If she was going to talk to anyone about the trauma she went through, the added trauma of being with her family and unable to truly share what the situation had been like, Isotta just wanted Valentina. She knew, even after all this time, she could confide in her sister and share the gory details with her sister, and Valentina wouldn’t judge her. She wouldn’t turn up her nose or ask ridiculous questions or ask anything that would further shame her. Valentina would be there for her. And that’s all she wanted at the moment: someone she could confide in.
But Isotta knew that was wishful thinking, nothing more. She knew that her family would never disclose where she was. There was a part of Isotta that wondered if Valentina was even still alive. The minute that thought entered her head, Isotta physically shook it off. She knew in her heart of hearts that if something that terrible had happened to her sister, she would know. She would feel it down in her soul, in her gut. So Isotta dismissed the thought as soon as she had it. She refocused her attention, even if it was back to what had happened to her.
Isotta needed some fresh air to take her mind off everything. At least she’d try. She made her way to the family room door that led to the wraparound patio. She strolled to the banister and looked out over the lawn and the trees that lined the edge of the expansive lawn. There was a bit of a chill in the air, but Isotta found it refreshing, not oppressive though, especially since the sun shone brightly overhead. Isotta inhaled deeply and let it out slowly. She inhaled again just as deeply as the first time. The second time, she released the air that filled her lungs even more slowly and more evenly.
“It’s a bit chilly out here, don’t you think?”
Isotta didn’t bother to turn around. She immediately recognized the voice. She heard footsteps moving closer to where she was. There was a part of Isotta that wanted to avoid confrontation at all costs. She could just walk away and avoid whatever conversation her mother had for her. But her mother closed the distance faster than Isotta thought, and when Isotta realized it, Celestina stood next to her.
They both stood there, not looking directly at each other but close enough in proximity to have a private conversation if they so desired. Maybe they both needed some fresh air, both being reminded of the days they spent enclosed in Alessandro’s warehouse, no fresh air, no doors opening to the outside that they could access. They were captive, held against their will, violated in the shadows and bare lighting. Maybe there was something for them to talk about.
After arriving where her daughter was, Celestina found herself hesitant to say anything to her daughter. Yet, Celestina felt like they at least needed to talk about it so they could start to heal from it.
“Are you feeling any better? I mean, now that we’re home and safe?”
“No, Mom,” Isotta barely answered. “I don’t feel any better or safer.”
“Not at least safer?” Celestina asked. “We’re home, with family, protected,” she suggested.
“We were home with family when they kidnapped us,” Isotta shot back.
“True,” Celestina sighed. “Maybe I feel better for being home rather than still in that place. At least no one is hitting me or abusing -.” Celestina stopped short, feeling her pressed-down emotions bubbling up. She turned away from Isotta even further. She didn’t want to upset her daughter by crying in front of her and potentially setting Isotta off. That’s not why she followed her daughter out on the patio. Celestina wanted to talk, to comfort her daughter while trying to comfort herself.
