She opened her eyes. Blinked hard. Shut them. Repeated the
process. She found it was getting easier. Maybe she could turn
over. She wanted to face the voice. The voice that was so
familiar that it made her brain ache with frustration at not
being able to place it. It took her a few moments of gathering
her willpower and what little strength she had left, or maybe
the strength that was returning, but she was slowly able to shift
onto her back, then she edged over, using her hips, which hurt
less than her upper body did.
At first, she thought she was hallucinating, or that she was
seeing someone who wasn’t there. Maybe she wasn’t awake at
all, and she was dreaming all of this. But then the softest
fingertips brushed over her right hand, the hand that wasn’t
hooked up to the IV and the other wires, and that gentle, warm
touch made everything real. It anchored Cassia to the bed, to
the pain in her sore body, to her surroundings.
“What…?” she croaked. She wanted to ask what Adalynn
was doing there, but the words wouldn’t come out.
Two bright pink spots appeared on Adalynn’s pale face. Her
eyes were wide and misty, her lips turned up in the softest,
watery smile. “I saw the article. There was a news article
about the accident. I called all the hospitals in Vegas until I
found which one you were in, then I booked a flight, and I
came. I’ve been here, on and off, whenever I’m allowed, since
then.”
Cassia grunted. She wanted words again, for the many
questions she had, but language was harder than it used to be.
Her tongue was thick and swollen, so dry that she wanted to
cough and gag every time she tried to open her mouth.
She had no idea what Adalynn was talking about. What