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Alina
It’s official. I think I’m sick.
My stomach won’t stop lurching. My limbs feel heavy and there’s a heavy fog over my brain, making it difficult to think. I’m not coughing or sneezing, and I’m pretty sure I don’t have a fever, but I’m nonetheless dizzy and nauseated.
I roll over in bed. It’s a little after ten in the evening. I think I dozed off shortly after Pyotr left, but now I’m awake and can’t get back to sleep. My eyes are scratchy and my face is all puffy from crying. I contemplate getting out of bed to grab a glass of water, but the thought of keeping anything down makes my stomach queasy.
I’mdefinitelysick.
With a shaky hand, I reach for my phone. Instinctually, I punch in Pyotr’s number. He’s really the first and only person who comes to mind. I hesitate, though, my thumb hovering over the screen. Maybe I shouldn’t call him. I’m pretty sure he’s still out, and given our awkward conversation earlier, I don’t have the strength to face him just yet.
I call Ben, instead.
“Alina?” he answers. I can hear the familiar piano music they play downstairs in the building’s lobby. “Is everything alright?”
“I think…” My stomach gurgles, and not in hunger. “I think I need to see a doctor.”
“Oh, goodness. I’ll come up right away and escort you to the car. Would you like me to call Mr. Antonov—”
“No,” I rasp quickly. “No, it’s alright. I’m sure it’s nothing serious. I’ll get dressed and meet you in the elevator.”
“Sounds good,” he says before hanging up.
It takes a surprising amount of effort on my part to drag myself out of bed and throw on some clothes. Just a pair of jogging pants and a loose grey shirt. I’m sweaty. Shaky on my feet. I’m sure whatever I have isn’t too serious, but it can’t hurt to be careful. Hopefully the doctor will be able to prescribe something to help settle my stomach.
By the time I get downstairs and meet Ben in the lobby, I’m a mess. He frowns when he sees me.
“I really should call Mr. Antonov.”
“Don’t trouble him,” I insist. “It’s just a little stomach bug. Besides, he’s busy.”
Ben presses his lips into a thin line, clearly unconvinced. He guides me out to the car regardless, shutting the door behind me as I slip into the backseat.
“Here,” Ben says, twisting in the driver’s seat to pass me a water bottle. “Have something to drink. I’ll get us to the hospital.”
“Thank you,” I manage weakly as I twist open the cap and take a few sips. It doesn’t really help settle my stomach, but I continue to drink anyway.
But it tastesstrange.
As Ben pulls into late-night traffic, I find my senses slowly dulling. I’m exhausted, but I chalk it up to being ill. I take another sip of water, then another, frowning slightly as I detect a bitter note coating my tongue. It’s mild and impossible to pin down. A bit like plastic, only it the inside of my mouth feels a little numb.
I’m not sure how long we’ve been driving. The bright lights of the city are mesmerizing, lighting up the inside of the car like stars. Everything gets blurry. Noises seem to drown out. Apart from the low rumble of the car’s engine, I can’t hear the rest of New York. Weird, considering the noises of the urban landscape are usually loud and clear, even this late at night.
My body feels light, like I’m floating. I think Ben takes a hard right around a corner, but I barely feel it. I’m not sure what’s happening to me. It’s like I’m two inches to the right of my body, watching listlessly as the rest of the world marches forward. The edges of my vision grow blurry, and my eyelids suddenly become too heavy to keep open.
“What…” I mumble. I barely recognize the sound of my own voice. “Ben, I think… I think something’s wrong.”
He glances at me in the reflection of the rearview mirror, hushing me softly. “It’s all going to be okay, Alina. It’s all going to be okay. Just close your eyes… We’ll be there soon.”
I like how Ben talks. Always so gentle and kind. I’m sure a quick nap won’t hurt.
When my eyes start drifting shut, I spot something peculiar on the floor just in front of the passenger seat. A white plastic bag, a small box of sleep aids crammed inside. The box has been torn open, several tablets already missing from the package.
The world around me swirls and evaporates into nothing.
My vision goes black, my conscious mind dragged under.
* * *
