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I nod, and she gets to work.
“The doctor will release you as soon as he’s here in a few hours. Mr. De La Rosa is anxious to have you home.” She glances at me momentarily when she says that part and finishes taking the needle out of my arm.
I look around the room. “Can I call my sister?” I ask her. “I don’t have my cell phone…” I trail off, and it’s not really a lie. I don’t have my cell phone. Or any cell phone.
“Oh.” She looks around too. “They must have taken the phone out when cleaning. I’ll tell you what,” she says, reaching into her pocket. “Use mine. It’ll be easier than tracking down the one that belongs in here. It’s not one of the fancy ones, but it works just fine.” She hands it to me and cleans up the last of the bandages. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Let me get these things sorted and pick up your lunch.”
“Thank you,” I say, trying not to sound too anxious as I flip her phone open. It’s one of the ones my dad used to have when I was little.
As soon as she’s gone, I dial Abel’s cell phone, hoping he’ll pick up even though he won’t recognize the number. When I hear the click as he does, I breathe a sigh of relief.
“Yes?” he answers short and sharp.
“Abel. It’s me. Ivy.”
“Ivy? What number is this?”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s not mine. I…I’m in the hospital.”
“What?” There’s an urgency in his tone I don’t expect. “What did he do to you?”
I don’t want to tell him about the aspirin. I feel too ashamed. And I can’t stand the thought that he’ll call me weak. I am. I know it already.
“Ivy?”
“I’m pregnant, Abel.” I hold back a sob when the words spill out, my throat tight. Pregnant. I know if I go back to that house, I will be Santiago’s prisoner forever. And my forever may not be that long. Is that the silver lining?
I hear something crash on Abel’s end of the phone.
“Abel? Can you hear me?”
“Yes.”
“I really need your help now. Okay?” I can’t help the tears that flow, and I know he hears them, but I go on before he can say anything. “I can’t go back there. I’m a prisoner. I’ll die. I know I will.”
“I’m assuming you’re at The Society hospital?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know your room number?”
I shake my head. “No. Let me go see.” I push the blanket aside and swing my legs off the bed. I move slowly, not trusting my limbs, feeling so weak. My legs are bare beneath the gown, and the floor is cold under my feet. I pad across the room to open the door, and the first thing I see is a man leaning against the opposite wall talking to a nurse. The moment he sees me, he straightens, his expression changing, darkening.
Santiago has a guard watching me.
I slip back inside and lean my forehead against the door
“Ivy? What the fuck is going on?”
I force myself to breathe. Try to calm my heart rate. “I’m on the fifth floor,” I say, having seen the number of the room across from mine. “I don’t know the number, but it’s across from 566. Abel, there’s a guard outside.”
“Okay. I need to think.”
I walk back toward the bed and sit down, my toes barely grazing the floor. I feel like a child. Like a scared little girl and I think about how Hazel left. How she managed to stay gone.
“Please, I can’t go back. I would rather die.” I wipe the back of my hand across my eyes.
“Just give me a little time. Can I call you back at this number?”
“I don’t think so. The nurse—”
“It’s fine. I’ll figure something out.”
“How?”
He snorts. “Your husband isn’t the only one with connections. Sit tight, little sister.” With that, he disconnects, and I’m left holding the phone, wondering about the last part. Little sister. It sounded almost affectionate, and I have to remind myself that this is Abel. He hates me.
But he hates Santiago more.
* * *
I’ve almost given up on Abel when, two hours later, there’s a knock on my door, and I sit up to see Evangeline’s face peer inside.
“Eva!”
“Knock, knock,” she says, slipping in and coming to me. I hug her so tight I don’t ever want to let her go. It’s been so long. Months.
“Eva, where’s Abel?” I ask when she pulls the chair Santiago had sat in up to the bed and glances to the door.
“He sent me. He thought they wouldn’t let him in to see you, but I’m just a kid.” She shrugs her shoulder with a wide grin. She reaches into her small backpack, pulls out a couple of Snickers bars, and sets them on the nightstand. “Hospital food sucks, right? And you got skinny.”
