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Pain exploded from her core.
Sylvie relaxed her muscles and forced herself to lie still while she tried to organize her thoughts, which proved to be rather difficult. Her limbs were heavy, almost numb. It was as if they were encased in lead. After what seemed like an eternity, she was able to slowly lift her lashes until she found herself staring at a stark white ceiling.
Gaining sight only enhanced the infuriating noise.
While the smallest movements were extremely challenging, Sylvie managed to turn her head toward the sound. Her vision was blurred without her glasses. Still, the IV bag seemed empty, and it took even longer for her to realize that it didn’t belong to her father. It was as if her mind had a persistent itch that she couldn’t scratch. Vague fragments floated to the surface, but the memories were never quite within reach.
“Miss Deering?” A nurse suddenly appeared by Sylvie’s bedside, her expression calm and reassuring as she changed out the IV bag. “How are you feeling right now?”
Sylvie tried to reply, but she couldn’t get her voice to respond. She even found that her eyelids drifted closed several times until she couldn’t open them anymore. The nurse had mentioned something about surgery, but nothing registered until Sylvie tried once more to stay on the right side of consciousness.
The nurse was no longer at Sylvie’s bedside.
At least the annoying beeps had been silenced, but nothing explained why she was in the hospital. Eventually, the throbbing ache in her stomach seemed to activate a switch in her memory. Maybe it was because she was lying so flat in bed, but she could literally feel her rapid heartbeat thudding against her chest. With every inhalation and exhalation, the tightness around her ribs provided a sharp counterpoint to the pain in her abdomen.
Erin Smith had stabbed Sylvie multiple times in the stomach. Her father had tried to warn her that there was something wrong with the woman. Sylvie had confronted the aide, believing that her father had simply misunderstood something that had taken place earlier that day. He had been so confused lately, but that was to be expected at this late stage of his care.
Sylvie didn’t know how long she had been unconscious.
A day?
Two?
A week?
Flashes of Erin Smith’s face contorting in anger had numerous questions swirling around Sylvie’s mind like leaves caught in a storm. The desire for answers was stronger than her need to sleep. She squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to bring forth the missing pieces of memory.
“…and my father is simply concerned, that’s all,” Sylvie said as she stepped into the living room. She wasn’t about to have such a discussion in front of her dad, not when he was in such a fragile state. The last thing he needed was to become upset and deteriorate even further. “I’m sure you are very good at your job. We both know that he has been confused lately, but that level of agitation is just not good for him right now. It’s no problem for me to call the agency and request someone else with more experience in hospice care. I’ll make sure they know that you’ve done nothing wrong.”
From what Sylvie’s father had told her just a few moments ago, there was something more going on than the woman not knowing how to clean a bed sore. According to him, Erin Smith had absolutely no idea how to do anything. Granted, his pain medication kept him sleeping most of the time. It was still better to err on the side of caution.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Erin said, her tone sharp and confrontational.
“Please keep your voice down,” Sylvie warned, not appreciating the way Erin had spoken to her. Her resolve to call the agency only strengthened, and she was glad that her father had finally expressed his doubts about the woman’s abilities. “My father needs his rest, and he—”
“Your father hasn’t the slightest idea what is going on, and I haven’t done anything wrong,” Erin exclaimed loudly as she stood next to the counter in Sylvie’s kitchen. The way she slammed her hand down on the hard surface caused a few of the dirty dishes to rattle in the sink. “He’s on enough morphine to knock out an elephant. I see it all the time. There is no reason to call the agency.”
Sylvie was done having this conversation. She wasn’t sure what had taken place during the day to cause such a dramatic shift in the woman’s demeanor, but it was time for her to leave the premises.
“Erin, I appreciate everything that you’ve done for my father in the past couple of months, but I think it’s best that he has someone else stay with him on the days that I can’t be here.”
Sylvie braced herself when she saw a physical change come over Erin. It would have been hard to describe such a transformation to anyone, but there was literal hatred in the woman’s expression.
Sylvie stood her ground.
“You should leave, Erin,” Sylvie advised after hearing her father call out her name. “Now.”
“Are you really going to believe a drug-addled, dying man over a professional health aide?”
“Erin, I’m not going to ask you again,” Sylvie warned, doing her best to remain composed. Her father once again called out her name before asking if everything was alright. “Like I said, I’ll call the agency and have someone else come sit with my father. There is no reason to escalate this situation.”
Sylvie had placed her purse on the coffee table when she had arrived home, so she turned and walked across the area rug to retrieve her phone. Her father’s suspicions had now aroused her own, because there was something obviously wrong with Erin’s mental state. Sylvie found herself somewhat irritated that the agency would employ someone who lacked the experience to care for a terminal patient.
“You had to ruin it, didn’t you? You bitch,” Erin said, her voice a lot closer than Sylvie was comfortable with as she pulled the phone out of her purse. She spun around to confront Erin, not expecting to see a glint of silver in the woman’s hand. Before Sylvie could react, Erin lunged toward her. “You wouldn’t answer my questions, you wouldn’t talk about Jacob Walsh, and now I’ve wasted two months changing shitty adult diapers for nothing.”
Each statement had been punctuated by another violent stab, causing Sylvie to cry out in horror. As the third attack came at her with such blinding speed, Sylvie’s instincts kicked in and she finally managed to grab ahold of Erin’s wrist.
Oddly enough, there was no pain.
