Chapter
One
Mandy staredat the industrial ceiling tiles above her head, counting the tiny holes for the hundredth time. A tear slid down her cheek and onto the thin mattress beneath her. She quickly wiped her face dry, though here in the busy ER of Tucson Medical Center, lying on a gurney against the wall, no one was likely to notice anyway.
The thin mattress of the gurney might as well have been concrete. Each breath sent daggers of agony shooting through her lower back. Her spine was screaming at her, urging her to find a new position. Being on her side would have been marginally more comfortable, but the struggle to shift position at this point was unthinkable.
Another tear escaped down her cheek. She wiped it away, refusing to give in to self-pity.
A pair of nurses rushed past, deep in conversation about a cardiac patient in one of the cubicles. Their shoes squeaked against the linoleum floor. Neither spared her a glance. Mandy hadn't even rated a cubicle; instead, the gurney she'd been transferred to by the EMT's who'd brought her in was shoved against a wall in the wide hallway.
She tilted up her phone, being careful not to jar her back. Four hours. She closed her eyes in despair, letting the phone drop back down. 'New record,' she whispered to herself.
She understood, rationally, why back pain ranked low on the triage scale. No one died from a bad back. The ambulance crew had apologized profusely when they'd had to move her, their gentle hands doing little to prevent the screaming agony of transfer. But they'd gotten her here. And here she lay, invisible.
A young doctor strode past, his white coat fluttering. Mandy opened her mouth to call out, but closed it again. What would she say? 'Excuse me, I know you're probably heading to save someone's life, but my back really hurts?'
The ceiling tiles blurred as fresh tears welled up. Four hours of listening to the chaos around her, trying not to move a single muscle as she prayed someone would come. Five minutes, that's all it would take. Five minutes for a doctor to announce that she had back pain and to order a shot that would take it away.
"Hey Martha, we'll get to you soon." A nurse paused by her gurney, looked at her chart, then hurried off.
"It's Mandy, actually," she murmured to the empty air. Not that anyone had bothered to care. The identification bracelet on her wrist proclaimed 'DUPONT, AMANDA' in bold letters, but she might as well have been invisible. That same nurse had already been by to check on her several times.
She closed her eyes, trying to find a mental escape from the pain. Usually, she could lose herself in plotting her next story or imagining fantastic worlds. But the constant throbbing in her spine consumed every thought, every breath.
A rattling crash echoed from somewhere nearby, followed by raised voices. More running feet. More squeaking shoes on linoleum. The drama of the emergency room played on around her little bubble of isolation.
The tears she'd been fighting broke free, trailing down into her hair. This time, she didn't bother wiping them away.
A soft voice spoke from nearby. "How long have you been here?"
The lilting alto carried a hint of an accent - Middle Eastern, perhaps? - and held genuine concern. Mandy quickly scrubbed at her face with trembling fingers, hoping to erase the evidence of tears before turning her head with careful movements to look at the speaker.
A petite young woman stood beside her gurney, definitely not hospital staff given her flowing silk tunic and fitted pants. Long, curling black hair cascaded past her shoulders, and warm brown eyes regarded Mandy with sympathy.
"Four hours." Mandy's voice came out scratchy from the dryness in her throat. A nurse had given her a bottle of water shortly after she had arrived, but that was long gone.
"Four hours?" The woman's perfectly shaped eyebrows drew together. "And no one has helped you?"
"It's a busy day. There's lots people worse off than me." Mandy tried to shrug, but the movement sent lightning bolts of pain down her spine. She sucked in a sharp breath, squeezing her eyes shut. Attempting a weak chuckle, she said, "It's probably a full moon or something."
"Actually, it is." The woman's smile widened, revealing perfect white teeth. "But that should not make a difference. Because some are worse off, does not mean your pain does not matter."
Something in the woman's voice, the way she emphasized those words, made Mandy's skin prickle. The fluorescent lights above seemed to flicker, though no one else appeared to notice.
"I'm used to it." Mandy shifted her gaze back to the ceiling tiles. "I’ve dealt with chronic pain for years. This morning isjust... worse than usual." Her voice quivered, and she stopped trying to talk.
"Chronic pain?" The woman leaned closer, her silk tunic rustling. A scent like desert winds and exotic spices wafted around her. "What kind?"
"Spinal stenosis in my lumbar spine. And arthritis in my knees." The words came out automatically - she'd repeated them so many times to doctors over the years. "Usually I can manage at home without meds, but this morning..." She swallowed hard, remembering the moment she'd realized she couldn't rise from her bed when she'd woken in agony that morning.
"You could not move." The woman's voice held such understanding that fresh tears threatened.
"I had my phone within reach. I always do, just for this reason." Mandy blinked rapidly to hold them at bay. "I called 911, and they sent an ambulance to bring me here. They'll get me a shot of something, probably Demerol, and send me home."
Her gaze fixed on the stranger's delicate fingers resting on the bed rail, noticing how the elaborate golden rings she wore, with their multicolor gemstones, sparkled beneath the harsh glare of the ceiling's fluorescent bulbs.
"But now you lie here, forgotten." The woman's voice held a note of steel beneath its musical quality.
