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At that moment, a woman with a blonde ponytail and a long white coat over baby-blue scrubs strolls in through the doorway.
“Ah, so youweren’tjust playing a prank on me!” She smirks in Roxanne’s direction, who grins back. “Hi Lilliana, I’m Dr. Rosen. How are you feeling?” She grabs a metal clipboard from the plastic pocket at the foot of my bed and flips through a few pages.
I release Roxanne’s hand and gently scoot myself back a bit in the bed so I’m sitting slightly more erect. As soon as she walked in the room, I felt better, warmer, safer. The doctor would give me answers. “Layla. I feel okay, obviously injured, but nothing especially painful at the moment. I want to know what happened, how I ended up in this fancy room, and… well, everything else that has happened in the last eight days? Do you know who attacked me? Were they caught?”
Dr. Rosen exchanges a glance with Roxanne, who gives a brief shake of her head in response to the doctor’s unanswered question.
“Okay, well, let’s start at the beginning, then.” Dr. Rosen pulls one of the comfy chairs over and sits next to Roxanne. “You were attacked in North Hollywood. Your friends scared away the attacker and called 9-1-1. They brought you to a local ER where they performed immediate lifesaving measures.
“They broadcast your story over the national news, partially because they were hoping some family would come forward, and partially because the nature of the attack was… unusual. They shared a photo of you that had been among your belongings in the camp, from your library card, I believe.
“Your uncle saw the news broadcast, and he knew immediately you were his long-lost niece. It turned out his sister and her husband disappeared from Smoky Falls, Tennessee, one night, and they were never heard from again. He said you were the spitting image of his sister at your age.
“He immediately flew here to verify his belief, and prove that he was your next of kin. We got your foster records, and although there was no next of kin listed, your parents turned out to be the people he claimed they were. They’d apparently obtained new identities for all of you, and you all lived under assumed names until they died four years ago.
“Your uncle immediately claimed guardianship and had you moved here. Roxanne and I work for your uncle, not the hospital. And so we’ve been caring for you as you heal, and your uncle returned to Smoky Falls to tend to his work there.”
My head swims with all of these revelations. I suck in a deep breath and gasp at the painful reminder of my injuries.
“Yes, you’ll have to keep taking it easy for a while yet as that heals, I’m afraid.” Her brilliant golden eyes are warm and understanding.
“You said the attack was unusual. How so?” I’m almost afraid to hear; visions of a hundred terrible things flip through my mind. I wonder if maybe it isn’t better for me to not know, if I don’t remember, anyway.
Dr. Rosen’s eyes track to Roxanne, who nods sharply. “According to the friends who found you, they stabbed you in the chest with an engraved silver spike of some kind. It looked like an antique, and the person who attacked you was speaking an unknown language when your friends arrived—they thought he was doing a magic spell on you before they scared him away. And your arms—well, you put up quite a fight. It looks as if you’d fought off a wild animal, the way your attacker cut you up.”
“So… there was nothing else then, just my arms and chest?” Cool relief washes through me to know there isn’t something more horrific that I’d blocked from memory.
“That’s right,” Dr. Rosen smiles. “But I’d say that’s quite enough, wouldn’t you?”
“Yeah, I suppose so,” I agree. “So… what happens now? When does this uncle come back?”
Roxanne and the doctor exchange another glance. Roxanne answers my question.“He won’t, Layla. His work requires him to be home unless there’s an absolute emergency. Finding you definitely qualified, but now he’s got us here to help you. Once you’re healed and ready, we’ll be taking you to Smoky Falls to live with him. You’re going to love it, I promise!”
“So once I leave the hospital I’ll go to Tennessee?” Images of endless cornfields flash through my head—is that what Tennessee looks like? I don’t know anything about the place. I’ve never left the west coast.
“Not exactly. Since you’ve been on the street for a few years, we need to get you caught up on your schooling. Your uncle wants you to be all set before he moves you in—it’s a small town and it would be best if you arrive on the same level with everyone else.” Something about this answer is laced with dishonesty—even though it is mostly the truth, she isn’t telling me the entire story, I know it. I can sense the nerves in her answer.
“So I’m going back to the foster home?” I can’t keep the disgust from my voice. I know it reflects in my expression, but I have no energy to pretend otherwise.
“Absolutely not. You’renevergoing back into the system. We’ve secured an apartment nearby, and that’s where you’ll go, to live with me while you recover. Your uncle has made me your temporary guardian, so I am responsible for you at the time being. You’ll be coming back to the hospital for rehab for a while, so it’s convenient to be close. Meanwhile, we’ll work on getting your GED completed so we can get you enrolled at Smoky Falls University. You’ll start there next fall.”
My emotions swing wildly. On one hand, I’m thrilled to know I never have to go back to foster care, or live on the street again—even as much as I adapted to it, street life can be scary and lacks a lot of comforts.
I’m also excited at the idea of living with these women, being cared for, actually looked after for the first time in a long time… even getting my GED is thrilling. I hated leaving school, but leaving foster care meant leaving the entire system, school and all. And I had to leave… I wouldn’t have survived if I stayed.
On the other hand, I’m more than a little overwhelmed to wake up and discover my life for the next year—the next five years, really—is already planned out for me. Clearly, this uncle is wealthy—why did I have to go to Smoky Falls University? Couldn’t I choose which school I want to attend?
Even though I’m miffed, I know it’s crazy for me to be so quick to upset about which college I’ll be attending—last week, I wasn’t even planning on finishing high school.
Dr. Rosen and Roxanne wait patiently as my mind swims through these thoughts and emotions. “I know it’s a lot,” Roxanne says gently. “And you’ve been through an ordeal. But I promise you, it’s all good from here. Starting with dinner. I bet you’re hungry, and I’ve been stashing the chocolate puddings to make sure you’ve got some for dessert.” Her wide pearly grin is infectious, and I return the smile. “I’ll go grab you a tray.”
My year living with Roxanne is one of the best of my life. Roxanne isn’t just a nurse; she is some kind of jack of all trades—she knowseverything. There’s literally nothing that stumps her, and over the year I do my best to come up with something she can’t answer, without success. I test her more than once with my wily street kid ways, but she always makes mewantto comply. There is no ignoring a polite request from Roxanne—you just do what she says.
But true to her word, she gets me ready for Smoky Falls. I have physical therapy for my arms—the damage is deep, and they had to stitch together the muscles and tendons before sealing up my flesh. It takes months for me to regain full use of them. There are still faint silvery scars where the cuts had been, but they fade until they are barely noticeable on my pale skin. On a sunny day I almost find them pretty—they seem to shine, like silver on my flesh. The physical therapists comment that my recovery is remarkable. They assumed I’d have some permanent damage, but I regained full dexterity in my hands and fingers after a few months of hard work.
Once I am rehabbed, Dr. Rosen—whose first name is Maria—returns to Smoky Falls, and it’s just me and Roxanne. She’s more of a big sister than a mother figure, and I grow to absolutely adore her.
And after I stop trying to rebel, I wantdesperatelyto please Roxanne. She is kind, and smart, and genuinely cares about me. She brings me surprises, especially when I do well at my studies. I work super hard to catch up on the years of schooling I’ve missed, my brain soaking up the knowledge like a dry sponge dropped into the ocean. Roxanne rewards me with junk food, trips to amusement parks that I’ve never visited, and books I drool over. She tries to give me clothes and accessories—pretty things most girls like—and I appreciate them.
