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CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Because it’s late,I can’t see much of the landscape of Costa Rica, but I can tell the difference between the ocean and city lights beneath us. I know it’s gorgeous, even in the dark.
A car awaits us when we land. We are so close to my brother, but I turn to Rafe and say with dismay, “It’s probably way past visiting hours right now.”
He responds, “Don’t worry. I’ve made arrangements.”
My eyes fill with gratitude, and I let them do the talking because I don’t know what to say. “You’re the best!” sounds a bit corny to say to a gangster.
The car eventually pulls up at the hospital, and I make the mistake of opening the door before the car comes to a complete stop. Rafe pulls me back. When the car does stop, Chung gets out of the front passenger seat and opens the door for us.
“Thank you,” I say, and force myself to slow down.
The front desk attendant at the hospital must have been expecting us because he directs us in fairly good English to the second floor, fourth room on the right.
It’s only when we’re in the elevator that I realize my hand is in Rafe’s. I don’t know when he took my hand, or perhaps it was I who reached out to hold his, but I find reassurance in the warmth and firmness of his grasp.
A nurse greets us when we reach the second floor. Chung surprises me by speaking to her in Spanish. I took Spanish for two years in high school, and all I remember how to say is “hello”, “please”, “goodbye”, and “where is the bathroom?”
The nurse has us follow her into a room with eight patient beds, half of them filled with curtains drawn around them. The nurse points to one of the beds at the end of the room. Rafe releases my hand so that I can scurry in that direction. Drawing aside the curtain, I pop my head in and see Peter, his head wrapped in bandages, a dark bruise on his cheek. He must’ve been sleeping, but he opens his eyes. Quickly, I go to him.
“Hey, Peter,” I say, trying to make my tone upbeat.
He stares at me. He doesn’t seem to recognize me.
“It’s me, Priscilla, your sister.”
He blinks, his expression still blank. Maybe he needs some time to fully awaken.
I squeeze his hand. “I heard you got in a fight. You never get in fights. I guess it’s one way to make your vacation memorable. I just got here, so I haven’t seen anything, but I bet it’s beautiful here.”
Please, Peter, be there.
“You won’t believe how I got here,” I continue, hoping that the sound of my voice will trigger something in him. “Way better than the seats on your flight. In fact, mine was probably better than first-class.”
He continues to stare at me. I stare back at the face more familiar than my own because, growing up, I spent more time looking at him that I did myself.
“So I think we can take a break from our quote-unquote ‘job’ for a while,” I tell him. “I’ll fill you in on the details later.”You have to come back to me.This is only a temporary loss of memory. Once he’s fully recovered from his concussion, everything is going to be back to normal. It has to.
I babble for several more minutes until the nurse comes in and says something in Spanish. Chung translates that we have to wrap up.
I don’t want to leave. I want to stay the whole night at Peter’s side, but I say to him, “I’ll be back first thing in the morning, as soon as they allow visitors.”
When he makes no response, I release his hand with a heavy heart.
I walk over to where Chung and Rafe have been standing, giving me space with Peter. I turn and look at my brother one last time.
As the nurse adjusts the curtains, I hear him say, “Priscilla?”
I rush to his side. “Peter!”
