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BANG!
I keep walking. My soul doesn’t feel any lighter.
Chapter 37
Sandra
I’m bedridden for what feels like an eternity.
Aunt Nat keeps telling me it’s frankly a miracle I survived. Very few can take a bullet through the chest and live to tell the tale. It’s nothing short of divine intervention. But even if I did have the energy to get out of bed, I wouldn’t. A heavy fog clouds my mind, and it has nothing to do with the pain meds I’m on.
I can’t stop thinking about Andrei. I can barely eventhinkhis name without pins and needles stinging my eyes. No matter what I do, no matter how much time has passed, I can’t bring myself to accept he’s dead. The lives we lead are dangerous ones. Death and injury is an accepted workplace hazard. I just didn’t think it would actually happen.
“Come on, Sandy,” Charlotte whispers at my bedside. There’s a bowl of chicken noodle soup on her lap. It’s all I’ve been able to stomach lately. Everything else makes me feel barfy.
“You should eat something,” Mom adds softly. She’s seated on the other side of my bed, anxiously fluffing my blanket for the millionth time today. “Maybe I should call Natalya again. I’m really starting to get worried.”
“Don’t,” I murmur. “I just don’t have much of an appetite.”
“That’swhyI’m worried, sweetie.”
“I just want to sleep.”
“You’ve been sleeping all day, sis. Aunt Nat said it was a good idea to move around now that your wound’s closed. You know, stretch those legs?”
I ignore my sister, my lips pressed into firm line to hide the fact that I’m biting my tongue. It hurts like hell, but subconsciously, I crave the punishment. I’d much rather hurt than let this encroaching numbness take over.
“I’ll eat later,” I grumble. “Where’s Dad?”
Mom glances at Charlotte. “In the city. Taking care of, um, a few things.”
A pang of guilt stabs through me. Or maybe it’s the residual ache of my injury. I really don’t know. What Idoknow is Dad has hardly been home the last couple of days because he’s cleaning up after my massive fuck up. He never said he was disappointed, but I can feel it. It lingers in the air, unspoken and daunting; made ten times worse now that my relationship with Andrei is known to the whole family.
Nobody’s brought him up. I can’t tell if I’m grateful or if I’m waiting for the shoe to drop. Is my family dead set on pretending he never existed? Like things might have turned out differently if we hadn’t gotten involved?
My stomach clenches. My nausea hasn’t gone away, but there’s honestly no telling if it’s because I haven’t eaten, if it’s a side effect of my medication, or if this is just how my body responds to unmentionable grief. Groaning, I attempt to roll onto my side. This only makes me dizzier, the room suddenly spinning like a top.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” I whimper.
Mom is quick to snatch up a nearby waste bin. She holds it up just in time for me to hurl, dry heaving so hard white spots speckle my vision.
“That’s it,” Charlotte says, exasperated. “I’m calling Aunt Nat.”
“No, don’t. It’s fine—”
My twin ignores me and pulls out her phone. “Hey, it’s me… Yeah, we really need you here. Something isn’t right… Mm-hmm. Throwing up. And she hasn’t been eating. I tried giving her her favorite—tuna sandwiches—but they made her feel even…” Charlotte goes quiet for a moment, her brows knitting together into a steep frown. I wonder what they’re saying.
“Oh,” Mom gasps, her eyes widening.
“What’s wrong?” I mumble.
She places a hand over my mine and smiles gently. “I need you to answer honestly, Sandy… You’ll have to forgive my bluntness, but did you and Andrei use protection?”
I shift uncomfortably. “Mom.”
“Did you?” Charlotte follows up. It’s a real punch to the gut.
“Of course we did.”
