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I laid back down and they moved us both down the hall. As I passed Cricket’s family, they all touched me. Only Ellie spoke though, after she kissed my cheek.
“We’re so grateful.”
“So am I,” I told her, folding the letter in her hand.
Inside the operating room, the anesthesiologist introduced himself and described what he was going to do, but my pulse rang so loudly in my ears that I didn’t hear him.
“Count down for me,” he said.
“One hundred,” I started. Cricket’s face. “Ninety-nine.” Cricket’s smile. “Ninety-eight,” I slurred. Cricket’s kiss…
“Spencer?” someone, a man, asked me. “Can you hear me?”
I felt someone, a nurse perhaps, rearrange some tubing. I winced when I tried to open my eyes, so I closed them again.
“Spencer? Can you respond to us, please?”
I attempted to open my mouth, but I couldn’t find the energy or the desire, so I decided I didn’t care and welcomed the black again.
“Spencer?” my sister asked.
I sluggishly opened my eyes and saw her face. She looked so tired.
“How is she?” I rasped. She looked up at Jonah. “How is she?” I repeated.
“How are you feeling?” she ignored me.
I opened my eyes farther and cringed when I tried to sit up a little. “Answer me.”
Tears fell down her face. “Spencer,” she said cautiously.
“Why are you crying?” I asked her. “Why is she crying?” I asked Jonah, terror-stricken.
“Calm down,” Jonah said, trying to make me lay back down. “You’re recovering.”
“Why in the hell is she crying?” I asked.
“Spencer,” he spoke, readying me.
And my blood ran cold. “No, she’s fine. She has to be. She’s got to be,” I said, sitting up, ignoring the blinding pain.
I started pulling tubes out of every part of me and swung my legs over the side of my bed. They both stood and tried to restrain me, but I pushed them with the leftover strength I had. I stood up and nearly passed out. I started to walk out of the room when three nurses came in, shouting about my sensors.
When they saw me they pushed a button and a few seconds later, a male orderly came in. It took all six of them to put me back on the bed. A random guy in an overcoat came in and administered something in my arm, making me drowsy, and I fought them until the black consumed me.
It turns out they kept me sedated until I’d recovered fully.
And they woke me the day of the funeral.
Bridge walked in the room with a black suit. “I don’t believe you,” I told her.
She turned around, her baby belly looking pretty in her black dress.
“I know,” she said, her voice sounding like sand. Her face looked like she’d scrubbed it with the same.
“I’m not putting that on,” I explained.
“You don’t have to,” she said, cleaning off the material with a lint brush.
