Page 6 of How to Survive Your Own Death

“We can’t all be lucky in love.” Geri tried to sit up but the room swam. Lying down seemed prudent. “I’m fine, thanks for asking.”

“You’re not fine.” Molly dragged the chair closer and grabbed Geri’s hand.

Her left arm was covered with a bandage, but the mottled purple-green edges of a bruise bled out from under the tape. She didn’t want to know how purple and green the rest of her was.

She squinted her eyes. The light was too bright and hurt her head. “Can we do something about the lights? It’s all… ugh.”

“Sure.” Molly moved to the controls by the door and dimmed the lights. Now they were surrounded by the glow of machines and the sunlight leaking in around the curtains.

“What happened? I mean, I know, but how bad is it?” Geri asked when her sister returned to her bedside.

“You’ve got a concussion and so much internal bleeding, you’re every shade of black and blue, and those are not your colors. You’re an autumn.”

“You get me,” Geri said with a huff of amusement. Pain spiked through her. “Don’t make me laugh. It hurts too much.”

“Your heart stopped,” Molly said.

“No.”

“For three minutes, you were technically dead.” She gasped as she said the last word, her voice quivering. She looked away, blinking rapidly to deal with her watering eyes. “Don’t you ever do that again! You’re all I have.”

They lost both their parents. Their mother died from cancer when they were still teenagers and their father from a heart attack a few years ago. Fortunately, they had a large extended family. More aunties than she could remember. Cousins in Philly and down south. Geri knew she always had an invitation for the holidays or summer cookouts. Plus she had her cat, Fiddlesticks. She’d never be alone, but it wasn’t the same as being able to hug her mom and dad.

“You have Anh,” Geri said, reaching for her sister’s hand. “How is she?”

“About to kick in the door with a snack box and boba tea.” A smile flickered across her face. She and Anh had been together since college and married for the last decade. “Don’t try to distract me with my hot wife. You really scared me.”

“It was an accident. I slipped.”

“It was a prank, and that ratbag put it on the internet.”

“Don’t call people names. It’s not nice.”

Molly rolled her eyes. “Your boyfriend put the whole thing on the internet.”

“He’s not going to be my boyfriend for long.”

“Good.”

“Fiddle—” she started to ask.

“Fed, watered, cleaned the box, and petted the little monster this morning. She had lots of opinions about management.”

“I bet.” Geri loved her cat but Fiddlesticks was a bit of a diva.

“You want some water or ginger ale?” Molly asked.

Geri nodded, which was a mistake. The room spun. “Yes. Anything.”

“Let me ask the nurse.”

Molly disappeared for a few minutes, possibly an hour. Geri had no way to judge time. Beyond the headache, she felt foggy and disconnected from the rest of her body. Molly eventually returned with a nurse, a turkey sandwich, and water.

The nurse—who had a pulsing blue and purple aura—checked her vitals and gave Geri a quick rundown of what was happening. Essentially, the initial MRI showed massive internal bleeding and she could look forward to at least three days in hospital. Factor infusions were going to happen on the regular until her numbers went up. The rest of her was bruised—the regular kind, not the world-ending internal bleeding kind—and no broken bones, thankfully. Her left ankle was sprained and needed to be elevated, not that she was getting out of the hospital bed anytime soon.

“What about seeing things?” Geri asked.

“Visual disturbances or hallucinations aren’t uncommon in the early stages of a recovery with a concussion. The doctor will discuss that with you during their rounds,” the nurse answered. “Are you seeing things?”