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“Where’s Mom?” I ask. “How is she?”
“She’s been here for most of the day,” Ryan says. “I sent her home to get some rest.”
I don’t miss that he’s not answering my question.
How is she?
Does she know? Does she know who killed her husband? Does she know that Dad didn’t commit suicide?
Scrubbing my hands over my face, I push the questions and recollections aside. “I want to go home.”
“Where is that doctor?” Mattie’s eyes are red and swollen. “What’s taking him so long?”
I look between my sister and my brother. “How long have I been here?”
Mattie shoots Ryan an accusing glance. “Two days, honey.”
“Two days?” I exclaim. “Why?”
“You suffered severe trauma,” Ryan says. “The doctor thought it wise to induce sleep to allow your body and mind to recover from the shock.”
“I’ll get the doctor,” Mattie says, taking Jared’s hand and pulling him to the door.
Jared gives me a strained smile. Straightening his glasses, he says, “I’m glad you’re better.”
Better.
It sounds so simple, so easy.
When they’re gone, I look at Ryan, really look at him. The strain around his eyes isn’t new. It’s always been there. I just haven’t noticed it before. Whatever my dad was involved in, my brother knew about it. Was he the only one who shared Dad’s secrets? Or am I the only person in the family who’s been left in the dark?
“Mattie shouldn’t be here in her condition,” I say.
“She’s fine. The baby is okay. Jared is taking good care of her.”
“We need to talk.”
The set of his mouth is resigned. “At home.”
The doctor enters, followed by my sister and brother-in-law.
“You’re awake,” the doctor says in an upbeat tone. Taking a penlight from his pocket, he flashes it in my eyes. “Your red blood cell count was on the low side when you were admitted. I’m going to run a few tests to make sure your mineral levels are normal. I’ll prescribe an iron supplement, but you should also consult a dietician to work out a balanced meal plan.
“I’ll have lunch delivered to your room. You’ve been on an intravenous drip for two days. Start with lots of liquids and go slowly with the solids until your digestive system has adapted. It’s best to stick to bland food for the first week. Don’t forget to make sure you’re well hydrated.
“We’ll keep you under observation for another couple of hours after you’ve eaten. If you keep the food down and your tests come back normal, you can go home. But I want you back here for a checkup in another couple of days.”
My family gives us privacy while he takes a blood sample, checks my vitals, and tells me that my blood pressure is fine. They return when a nurse wheels a trolley with soup, a glass of juice, and a bowl of jelly and custard into the room. The doctor scribbles the name and number of a psychiatrist on a prescription sheet and gives it to Ryan.
“I recommend that you schedule a visit as soon as possible,” he says with a pat on Ryan’s back and a smile directed at me before he leaves.
Despite myself, I’m starving. I don’t remember ever being this hungry. The food is tasteless, but I finish every morsel under Mattie and Ryan’s scrutiny.
After eating, I’m suddenly exhausted again. Ryan switches on the television, and Jared offers to get everyone coffee from the vending machine.
I’m drifting in and out of awareness, doing my best to just survive and not to think for now.
It feels like hours later when the doctor returns to inform me that my test results are normal and that he authorized my discharge. A nurse removes the IV tube and tells me that I can get dressed.
