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“…of how she’s doing?”
This was Grandma Tate. She was sure of it. Grandma Tate was here. So where was Paige?
“All I can tell you right now is that the surgery went well. Right now, Rachel just needs to rest.”
“Can I see her?”
“Not just yet. I’m sorry.”
The voices were distant, behind walls or doors or worlds for all Rachel knew. Everything felt swimmy; everything felt shapeless and weird. She wondered if she might be on the threshold of death and, if so, maybe death wasn’t so bad. Was this what everyone was scared of?
She was aware of a fading sort of weight coming over her, a heavy blanket that tore everything down. Sleep? Total unconsciousness? She didn’t know.
What she did know was that she came to some time later. She was terrified, and this time, she did manage to open her eyes. The lights were too bright. Somewhere, a. machine was beeping and trilling like some sort of mechanical bird. She opened her mouth to shout but was only able to groan.
After a while, someone came into the room—nothing more than a blurry shape that was distorted by the light. An angel? A doctor? A demon?
“Mrs. Gift, it’s okay. You’re okay. You’re in the ho—”
But that heavy blanket fell on her again, and this time, it took the pain under with her. She was scared that Alex Lynch might be waiting for her again, but in the end, there was only the darkness. And she was curious as to why it felt so comforting.
***
Voices again. Soft, and both female.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” the first voice said. Again, she identified Grandma Tate’s voice without a problem.
“I want to. It’s okay.”
That was Paige. It was a realization that sent the darkness scampering away. Rachel willed her eyes to open, though it seemed to take far too much effort. When her eyes opened, and her brain understood it was now time to take in information and at least attempt to work properly again, the pain came roaring back. It was everywhere. In her head, in her side, in her stomach.
Shot,she reminded herself.I was shot.
But she turned her head, and there was Paige. Grandma Tate stood behind her, a phantom against the bright light. But Paige was close and well-defined. For several moments, her face was the world, the sun, the thing that everything in her life revolved around.
“Mommy…” Paige said, her face crumpling up in sadness.
Rachel, lying on her back, reached for her, and another flare of pain tore through her body. But she didn’t care. She placed her arm around her daughter, barely registering the fact that there were tubes in her arm. She drew Paige to her and began to cry.
“I’m sorry, baby,” she wept. “I’m so sorry…”
Paige hugged her back, and then that heavy blanket fell on her again. This time when she went out into the darkness, at least she had her daughter in her arms.
***
The next time she opened her eyes, it was night. She wasn’t sure how she knew this, she justknew.The room was dark, the only light coming from the small light over a sink on the other side of the room. She licked her lips, feeling how dry and stagnant her mouth was. She looked around for a clock but didn’t see one.
She slowly took in her surroundings. She was definitely in a hospital room, a one-bed deal. A chair was sitting in the corner to her right, slightly askew. There were two different tubes coming out of her right arm, both running to bags that were hanging from a steel rail to her right. As she looked at the tubes and the bags—one with a clear solution and the other looking slightly yellow—she took note of the Call button attached to a small device on the side of her bed. She reached out and touched it. The small action caused a wave of numbness to pass along her left side.
With the button pressed, she willed herself to stay awake. She needed answers. She needed to know the damage, how things had turned out and—
The door opened, and a nurse came in. She was quite mousy, a short Asian woman with her hair up in a ponytail. She smiled at Rachel and said, “Mrs. Gift! It’s nice to finallyofficiallymeet you. Are you okay?”
Rachel nodded.“I just… I need to be updated. What’s the… what…”
Her mouth was so dry, and most of her body felt numb or in pain—a strange combination. Even forming words seemed to be a bit too much.
“Of course,” the nurse said, though she seemed a bit nervous. She looked as if she’d much rather someone else be the one to share an update. “Well, you came in with a gunshot wound that entered high on your left side. The bullet went in at an upward angle. It shattered a rib but that same rib may have very well saved your heart. The impact to the rib slowed the bullet, you see. You had surgery right away and that went perfectly well.”
