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But I wished I was.
As my gaze wandered around the room, I saw Magda asleep at the foot of my bed, her body curled up like a small child seeking comfort in slumber. Magda's light hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing her peaceful face. Her skin glowed softly in the dim light that filtered through the curtains, and her long lashes cast delicate shadows across her cheeks.
I couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for what I had put my dear friend through. She wouldn't be in pain right now if I hadn't gone to return that cufflink.
It was baffling to have something so specific to point at, knowing that it had forever changed my life.
It had changed many lives, hers included. And now, here she was, asleep at my bedside, watching over me while I suffered the consequences of my actions.
A sudden, desperate need to hear Magda's voice gripped me and I rasped out her name, the syllables jagged and raw in my throat. "M-Magda...please..."
The sound of my strained call filled the air. Her eyes fluttered open, instantly locking onto me with a mix of relief and worry.
"Carmencita, are you awake?"
I nodded, and her face bloomed with tender emotion.
Without hesitation, she reached for the docufone on the bedside table beside her. The sleek metallic device gleamed under the dim light, its touch-sensitive screen reflecting the concern etched across Magda's face.
She set the docufone back on the table and moved closer to me, her hand reaching out to gently stroke my hair. "Don't worry about talking right now," she whispered, her voice soothing, like a lullaby. "Just rest."
Magda wrapped her arms around me, offering a balm for my aching soul. I could feel the gentle press of Magda's cheek against my own, but that was paired with the acute pain coursing through my body. It was a relentless tide, ebbing and flowing in time. My leg had a throbbing ache, which I attributed to the long days spent in a dreamless slumber.
I allowed myself to lean into Magda's hold, letting my friend anchor me in the tempestuous sea of pain and confusion.
"How long have I been asleep?"
"Two weeks, Carmen," Magda whispered, her voice laced with relief and worry. "You've been asleep for two whole weeks." She looked away from me.
I tried to process the information, but it was like grasping at smoke, the edges of my memory slipping through my fingers. The remaining fragments were cloaked in shadows, distorted echoes of a reality that felt impossibly distant and hauntingly close. Magda wasn't telling me something.
"Two weeks?" I choked out, the enormity of the revelation settling over me like an icy wave. My heart raced in my chest, each beat sending tendrils of pain radiating from my leg. I tried to shift, to ease the pressure on my pulsing limb, but the movement only exacerbated the agony.
I cried out, my body tensing involuntarily as a sharp, brutal wave of pain tore through my leg. It felt like a thousand shards of glass were burrowing into my flesh, slicing through to the marrow of my bones.
"Shh, it's okay, I'm here," Magda murmured, her grip tightening around me protectively. There was something fierce in how she held me, a quiet determination that spoke of a strength forged from adversity.
I sat up, taking Magda with me.
"Easy, Carmen," Magda whispered, shifting her body closer to offer support. "Just take deep breaths."
My chest heaved, inhaling sharply as the pain subsided. It left me feeling hollow and disoriented. With each ragged breath, I attempted to move again, my determination fueled by a need to understand the extent of my injuries.
"Why does it hurt so badly?" I demanded, reaching for the covers.
"Wait, don't—" Magda tried to warn me, but it was too late.
As I lifted the covers, I caught a glimpse of my left leg—or rather, the absence of it below the knee. The stump was wrapped in white bandages, and my knee was gnarled with ugly scars.
The sight sent a jolt of shock through me.
"Please, lie back down," Magda implored, her voice trembling. "Wait until Antonio gets here."
But I couldn't tear my gaze away from the void where my leg once was.
My lip trembled, and my breath came faster. "I can... still feel it." Memories of dancing filled my mind—every graceful leap, every twirl, every moment of glorious freedom stolen away.
"I don't know all the details. Please, wait," Magda begged me, but the finality of her words struck me like a physical blow.
