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“Fine. A little sore, but otherwise okay.” I smooth the blankets out. Truth is, my body feels like it went through a commercial washing machine. Which then exploded and shot me across the room.
“I’m glad to hear it.” Her smile is friendly, but the unease in my stomach grows. “Can you tell me the last thing you remember?”
Closing my eyes, I think back on my life. A huge chunk of it is covered with what I can only equate with a thick haze. I know something is there. I just can’t see what it is.
What I do know is that I am terrified.
“Um, I remember talking to Mrs. Marooney.”
“Mrs. Marooney?”
“She’s a resident at Pine Meadow.”
“What were you talking about?”
“Just normal stuff. We liked to read the same book at the same time.”
“That is very sweet,” she says softly. “Do you remember the name of the book?”
A piercing pain shoots through my head. “Ugh. Sorry, no.”
“It is completely normal to feel frustrated.”
“I just wish I knew what happened.” I smile at her, but I know it’s empty. I’ve never had to search hard for joy. My grandfather told me that I was born with an extra bit of sunshine in my soul.
Right now the thunderclouds are making it really hard to see a bright side.
“A lot of times, memories return. Sometimes it just takes a minute for the brain to fully process what you went through.”
Her reassurances feel just as empty as my smile.
“Thanks. When can I be discharged? I would really like to get back to my normal life and see if I can even begin to pick up the pieces.” I’ve been trying to force my attention away from the fate that awaits me at Pine Meadow, but it’s weighing on me anyway.
The sooner I can deal with all of it, the better.
“Well, I spoke with Dr. Edwards, and he said that so long as I thought you were clear, we could get you discharged today. There were no residual effects of the drugs, so—”
“Because I am not an addict. I told you all, I have never taken anything stronger than an antibiotic for a sinus infection in my life.” Desperation to get out of here increases with the knowledge that freedom is so close.
If I can get home, I can find answers.
Dr. Chassum smiles and nods. “Yes, well, we won’t know for certain how those drugs got into your system until you can remember what happened.” She plucks a business card out of the pocket of her scrub top and offers it to me. “Feel free to call me—anytime of day, Dahlia. I’m here for you.”
“Thanks.” I take the card and set it aside. “So I can go home?”
She stands. “I’ll let the doctor know that I’m signing off on your release.”
“Fantastic.”
“I do hope you remember, Dahlia.”
“Thanks. Me, too.”
With another smile, she gets to her feet and leaves the room.
The first ray of light shines through the darkness. I’m almost out. It wasn’t long ago that I was brought in, but it feels like I’ve spent years trapped in this room.
I take another drink of the coffee Anastasia brought me, and then it hits me—how will I get home?
