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“What is the nature of your relationship with Ms. Gallagher?” he asked.
“Work colleagues.”
The doctor raised his brow and looked at the nurse, who opened the folder she had in her hand and shuffled through the papers inside. She gave him a sheet containing the information I assumed he was looking for.
“You’re listed as having her medical power of attorney.”
“That’s right.” The reason why was none of his business.
“It’
s unlikely she’ll remember you.”
“Excuse me?”
“As I said, Ms. Gallagher has only regained consciousness for short amounts of time.”
“And yet you predict she won’t remember me?”
“We have reason to believe her memory has been affected.” He studied me for a moment. “Do you have any other questions?”
A thousand, at least, but his track record at answering any I’d asked so far was zilch. I shook my head.
“You may see her now. If you’d like, the nurse can escort you to her room.”
If I’d like? There’s nothing I’d like less. However, this wasn’t something I could walk away from. Siren wasn’t someone I could walk away from.
* * *
The nurse waved her arm for me to follow.
“Hold up,” I said, motioning to where I left a book and a cup of coffee near where I’d been sitting.
She folded her arms and drummed the fingers of one hand. I’d been sitting here for seven hours, waiting for some kind of word on Siren’s condition. She could damn well wait for me to throw away a coffee cup.
I followed her behind the double doors and down a corridor.
“As you were informed, she’s been awake on and off.” The nurse stopped walking and cleared her throat. “I’ll warn you that Ms. Gallagher’s appearance may be somewhat alarming.”
I didn’t bother to tell the nurse that I’d seen things exponentially worse than alarming. Horrific. Nightmarish. Gruesome. Those were appropriately descriptive adjectives of the carnage I’d witnessed. Many of the scenes, I’d caused. A tiny woman lying in a hospital bed was the last thing that would alarm me.
Or so I thought. The woman who’d infuriated me like no other ever, sent my blood pressure skyrocketing with her inability to follow simple directives, and caused me to consider strangling her on countless occasions, looked like a broken doll lying on the gurney.
Her skin, already pale as alabaster, was ghostly white save for the purple bruises that marred its otherwise flawlessness. Beneath the edges of the thick bandages covering most of her scalp, I could see that her long inky-black hair had been shaved. The worst of what I saw, were the straps tying her arms to the bed’s rails. I lifted the sheet and saw the same with her legs.
“Is this really necessary?” I slowly turned when the nurse cleared her throat but didn’t answer. “What?”
“I’m sorry, Mister…”
“Torcher.”
“Right. You have five minutes, after which, I’ll need to accompany you back out to the waiting area.”
I shook my head and looked back at Siren. “I’m not leaving.”
“But you can’t remain—”
“Watch me.” I seethed, looking over my shoulder at the woman who was half my height and probably a quarter of my weight.
