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29
The next little bit is fuzzy. My eyelids feel so heavy. I remember waking up in the hospital, seeing Aiden talking to some doctors in the hallway. I remember my mom sitting beside me, crying. I remember seeing the flowers that filled the room. But I don’t remember much else.
When the grogginess clears and I pry my eyes open again, I’m met with darkness. I’m lying in a bed that’s not mine, and when I turn my head I see Mom, sleeping in a big reclining chair beside me, illuminated by the moonlight coming through the window.
“Mom?”
My voice is rough, and I reach up to rub my throat but stop when there’s pulling on my arms. Needles and tubes are stuck in my hands and arms, and I’m grabbing one to try and pull it out when a hand stops me.
“Thea?” Mom removes her hand and rubs the sleep from her eyes, and she immediately tears up. “You’re up! How are you feeling? Oh honey, you had us so worried. You’ve been in and out for a few days.” She pulls me against her for a hug but it’s a bit awkward because of all the stuff in my arms.
“A few days?” My throat is still sore, and I try to clear it again.
Mom notices. “Let me call the nurse, she’ll get you some ice chips. It’s from the tubes they had in your throat during surgery. But don’t touch any of the needles in your arm, you need the IV.”
Surgery?Mom scurries around the bed and is out the door, the light from the hallway leaking into the room.
I lie there in the hospital room, letting the memories come back to me, and as the events of that afternoon flood my mind, my heartbeat increases and the beeps on the monitor beside me speed up. I remember the call from Andrew. Locking Aiden, Noah, and Mason in my room. Meeting Annalisa. My tires being popped. Meeting Tony. Shooting Tony.
Where’s Annalisa?
Mom enters the room with a cup in her hand and sets it on the table beside me. She notices the heart monitor’s loud beeps and her eyes widen. She rushes to me and smooths my hair away from my face. It’s almost odd, seeing her so worried, so concerned.
She must be reading my thoughts because she says in a soothing voice, “It’s okay, Thea. Tony’s dead; I identified his body myself. And your friends are all okay. Annalisa’s fine.”
Tony’s dead. He’s dead. Annalisa’s fine.
Maybe if I keep saying it over and over again it’ll feel real.
Tony is dead.
I don’t have to hide anymore. I don’t have to be scared anymore.
I don’t have to be Amelia anymore.
Mom hands me the cup of ice chips and I greedily suck on them, wishing I could chug water instead.
“What happened? I was shot?” I ask around a full mouth.
Mom continues stroking my hair away from my face, the gesture oddly comforting, motherly. Her lips wobble as she tries not to cry. “Maybe we should wait for the doctor.”
“Mom. I was shot.” It’s not a question this time.
She takes a shaky inhale. “It hit your chest cavity. They said you were incredibly lucky it didn’t puncture your lung. They fixed you up. You lost some blood from your leg, but help came before you lost too much.”
Help came? I hadn’t told anyone where I was. Agent Dylan didn’t answer his phone, and I was too scared to call the police. I remember a voice before everything went blank. Aiden? Was he really there or did I imagine him?
Mom’s stopped touching me and is now wringing her hands in front of her. It’s then, as my eyes continue to adjust to the dimness of the room, that I notice her face is makeup-free, her eyes are red, and there are dark circles under her eyes. Her hair isn’t styled and she’s in rumpled sweats. Has she been here the whole time?
She continues talking. “The police told me after that he used a nine millimeter. Those bullets stay intact instead of . . . exploding in you . . . so it could’ve been that much worse . . .” She trails off, her jaw working, her eyes watering.
She’s really affected by this, seeing me here in a hospital bed, and my eyes water on their own at the thought. I was shot. It was a 9 mm. My mom’s been by my side the whole time, crying at the thought of losing me?
“You should get some rest, Thea,” Mom says, her voice weak, tears lining her eyes again. It’s almost weird having her call me Thea. We never used our real names at home, always using our new names in case we got too comfortable and slipped while others were around. It’s been a long time since I’ve heard my actual name, the one she gave me, voiced from her lips.
Despite having tons of questions, I settle back into the pillow. “Where’s Annalisa? How did she find me?”
Mom’s fussing over me. Fixing the blankets and fluffing the pillows and pushing my hair behind my ears. She sets the ice-chip cup on the bedside table. It’s all so strangely comforting, and my eyelids grow heavier.
“Annalisa’s fine. She had a minor concussion, but she’s okay.” She leans back and exhaustion seeps into my bones.
“I’m—” Mom’s lips are quivering again. “I’m so sorry, Thea. I haven’t handled any of this the way I should’ve. I’ve been terrible, and I thought I was doing the right thing and protecting us, but I made you feel like you couldn’t trust me, like you had to do everything alone, like you couldn’t come to me when Tony called you. Things”—she sniffles back her tears—“things could’ve been different. They should’ve been different.”
Despite being tired, her words hit me right in the stomach. I try to form my own words but I’m too overwhelmed by what she’s saying to properly process anything.
“I’m sorry we’ve been fighting so much,” she continues when words fail me. “I’m going to do better, okay? We’re going to work on our relationship. I quit my job, too, so I’ll be around more.”
All I can do is stare at her with wide eyes. It took a near-death experience to finally get my mom back, but I’m not even mad about it. I’m just happy she’s trying, that we’re trying. That maybe, after all this time, I’m going to have a healthy relationship with my mom because we’ll both put in the effort. She hasn’t made the best decisions in my opinion, but I haven’t made life easy for her either. But together, we can fix our relationship, and I’d really like that. I’d like that more than I ever thought possible, more than I thought I’d ever care.
“I’m so proud of you,” she whispers as my eyes close. “Get some rest, we can talk in the morning.”
As my eyes shut of their own accord and calmness takes over me, Mom’s sob of “I’m so sorry,” is the last thing I hear before I welcome sleep.
When I wake up again, the sun is shining through the open window, and Mom’s beside me, sipping from a coffee mug. I feel much better than I did last night.
“Hi, honey.” My mom greets me, setting her mug down. “The doctor wants to see you. I’m going to call him.”
She leaves the room as I orient myself again. There are flowers on every surface, and a few stuffed animals. Mom returns with a doctor who has kind eyes and a warm smile.
The doctor says something to me, and I only mostly listen to what she’s saying. Something about antibiotics and stitches and aftercare, but I’m only half listening. Mom’s paying enough attention for the both of us. Nodding attentively, asking questions, and taking notes, though I’m sure this isn’t the first time she’s been told about my aftercare instructions. Mom’s here now, really here, and I trust her to listen to the important stuff, to take care of me, to remember what to do, because as I sit here and watch the doctor’s lips move, all I can think about is Tony.
He’s dead. It’s over.
The doctor checks me over and removes some of the tubes, then talks some more to Mom.
I don’t have to hide anymore. I don’t have to be paranoid or look over my shoulder or be terrified of screwing up or hide who I really am.
As the doctor leaves, there’s a knock on the door, and my breath hitches. It’s Aiden.
Mom leans down near my ear. “He’s been here every moment he’s been allowed. Your other friends have been popping in as well, all harassing me for updates.”
I feel giddy as I take in his handsome face, the concern etched into his features. He enters the room, and as his broad frame shifts, I see Annalisa following him.
“Thea,” Aiden breathes, rushing over to me.
He takes my face in both hands and leans his forehead against mine. It’s sweet and tender, and even though I’m not usually a crier, my eyes begin to tear. I never thought I’d have a moment like this with Aiden again. I thought I would never see him again, his betrayed face the last thing I would see. But it’s not. He’s here; he’s still with me.
“I should yell at you for being so damn stubborn and doing this all on your own, but I’m just too fucking happy that you’re okay,” he says, his deep voice filling me with warmth. “You really had me scared there for a bit.” His eyes stare deep into mine, searching.
“How are you feeling?” Annalisa asks from where she’s standing beside Aiden, and he straightens up, but our connection is still there, even though he’s not touching me. I can feel him everywhere.
Mom clears her throat. “I’m going to get more coffee. I’ll be back in a bit.”
“Okay,” I murmur, grateful that she’s giving me some time alone with my friends, and soon she’s out of the room.
I try to sort through all my emotions and feelings so I can express them properly. “Anna, how are you feeling?” Last I saw her, she was unconscious, bleeding out, her hand cold in mine.
“I’m fine, just a concussion and some stitches.” She waves me off. “But seriously, are you okay? I saw you get shot!”
“How—” I glance between her and Aiden. Aiden’s jaw tics. I continue. “How did you see that? How were you there? You saved me.”
She shakes her head. “No. You saved me. I did a shit job saving you.”
I disagree with that, but I press on for answers. “How did you find me?”
She’s not wearing any makeup, and it’s so weird to see her eyes without the smoky black eyeshadow and eyeliner enhancing them, her lips without the blood-red tinge. She looks okay. No noticeable bruises or cuts anywhere on her face, though she seems paler than usual.
“I followed you,” she says without a hint of remorse. “You were acting all weird and the stuff you were saying about witness protection and my father and that weird good-bye made me suspicious and worried about you, so I followed you from a distance. It was easy since you took back roads. No one really takes them, and the trees hid me a bit. I had just turned the corner when I saw him shoot you.”
Tears well in my eyes. She didn’t stop to think, didn’t hesitate. She jumped from her car and saved me, stopped him from killing me. She was worried about me even though she was mad at me.
“You were so brave, Anna. I’m sorry about all the secrets.”
She waves me off again. Something’s different about her and it’s more than just a makeup-free face. She seems more vulnerable. “Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry I was being a bitch, and I shouldn’t have reacted that way when I learned about the twins and you and Kaitlyn. I never gave anyone time to talk before jumping to my own conclusions. I apologized to Mason for telling him about his dad the way I did too.”
She grabs my hand and it’s so different from the last time I held her hand. It’s warm and her grip is strong, reassuring. “I know we’ve had a rough few days, but you know I love you, right?”
I almost laugh but it hurts my chest. She literally tackled the man hunting me down, her biological father, and saved my life. Of course I know she does.
“Always. I love you too. And we’ll sort everything out with the twins and Luke. It’ll all work out.”
Annalisa and Aiden exchange a glance.
“Actually,” Aiden starts, “Luke’s been cleared. Remember my friend who works at the gas station, Ben? He found video footage of Luke.”
Annalisa smiles. “It showed him passed out on a bench from five thirty to seven thirty. They were ruling it as a murder because it looked like Greg was killed in a fight with Luke, but since Luke has an alibi from five to seven, it obviously wasn’t him. Forensics was forced to take another look at all the evidence and are ruling it an accident, technically death by misadventure. Now they think Greg didn’t die from a fight but instead tripped and hit his head.” Her smile grows bigger, her joy infectious. She seems years younger. “Luke’s free.”
