Chapter 1
Rose
“Hi there. Welcome back. I’m Doctor McKellan, and I’ll be looking after you for the next few days while we monitor your condition. How do you feel?”
“Umm... I feel... like I was hit by a truck. Or two.”
“Well, that’s not ideal, but it’s totally normal for someone who’s suffered the type of head trauma you have. Don’t worry, we’ll have you feeling like a brand new you in no time at all. In the meantime, we’re going to need to ask you some questions and run some more tests, mostly of your cognitive function—short and long-term memory, that kind of thing—just to get a better handle on your condition. Is that all right?”
I wondered what other option I had, since I was clearly in a hospital. “Uh... okay, sure. Of course.”
“Good. That’s the spirit. Let’s start with something easy. Can you tell me your name, please?”
That was easy. “Rose Arden.”
The doctor frowned, looking down at his clipboard. “Ah... that’s not quite what we have here.”
“Oh. Well it’s really Tabitha Rose Arden, but nobody has called me Tabitha since… Ah… for years.”
“Oh, okay. That makes sense. Well, you aced that one. What about your date of birth, and address?” I reeled them off without skipping a beat. “Great. Well done. How about the date and the year?”
“Umm... Thursday, October third.”
“Actually, it’s Friday fourth now, but you were admitted yesterday, so I’ll give you that one.
“It’s Friday?”
“Yup. All day till twelve midnight.” He chuckled lightly.
“Huh?”
“Nothing. Sorry, just a lame joke my Grandpa Arnold used to make.”
“Oh right. Okay. What time is it?”
He looked at his watch. “A quarter after midday.”
Shit. It had been almost twenty-four hours since Kane and Fox had grabbed me from the deserted alley I used as a cut through to get home from classes, and bundled me into the back of their van. The most bizarre day of my life, which was saying something, given the life I’d lived.
“How about the year?” Dr. McKellan pressed on. “Can you tell me what year it is?”
I wrinkled my nose, the way I always did when I was deep in concentration. “Umm... Nineteen... ninety… nine?”
The doctor frowned and started writing on the clipboard again. “No sweetheart, I’m sorry, that’s not it. Do you want to have another try?”
“No. I’m sorry, I was just messing with you. I totally know what year it is.” I supplied him with the full, correct date.
“Oh, hahaha. Well you score one point for knowing the year, and another for your sense of humor. I like it.”
“Thank you.” I’d learned over the years that it was either laugh or cry when shit went bad, but if I could help it at all, I’d far rather laugh.
“One last question. Can you remember what you had for breakfast yesterday? The day you were admitted?”
“Ah, that’s easy. A jelly donut.” I remembered, as I’d treated myself on the way to the Dean’s office, knowing I was about to receive some form of bad news, and there would be no celebrating afterwards.
“Well, as a doctor, I won’t say it meets recommended nutritional guidelines, but as a fellow donut lover, I both approve of, and am somewhat jealous of your breakfast choices. Oh, to be your age again, with the metabolism of a racehorse. Now, I only have to look at something fried, and I gain ten pounds.” He grinned ruefully. “All right, so tell me what you recall of the events leading up to you being brought in.”
This time it was more than my nose that was wrinkled. I screwed up my entire face, frowning hard. “I can’t remember anything. I mean, I remember grabbing a donut on the way into college, like I told you. I remember having a meeting with the Dean, and leaving his office pretty shaken up, but after that...” I shook my head. “I’ve got nothing.”
That wasn’t strictly true. Yes, there were gaps in my memory—I genuinely had no recollection of how I’d gotten to the hospital, or the events directly preceding that—but what I did remember, I wasn’t about to share with the jovial medic, or anyone else for that matter, before I knew what the fuck was going on.
“Okay, don’t worry or tax yourself trying to remember. Short-term memory loss is an extremely common side effect of severe concussion, and if you’re lucky it will be temporary.”
“Concussion?”
“Hmm... you were found unconscious and vomiting on one of the benches out front, which is another very typical symptom.”
“So, I’m not shot?”
“Shot? No.” He scrutinized his notes. “What makes you think that? At first we thought you were suffering from some sort of overdose, or maybe a seizure of some kind, but it quickly became apparent that it was likely to have been a concussion caused by blunt force trauma to the head.” They were words I’d heard before on TV cop shows, but I’d never imagined they would be associated with injuries I’d sustained.
“The egg you’re sporting on your skull and your scan results seem to fit that hypothesis, as does the memory loss, though that can also be caused by other factors, such as shock. Speaking of which, are you sure you have no idea how you banged your head, or how you came to be slumped outside the hospital?” The doctor narrowed his dark-gray eyes as he questioned me.
I made a big show of ‘thinking’ again, though I had no need to rack my brain. I could remember a scuffle, then pulling the trigger of the gun, the force of the kickback, the seemingly deafening sound of gunshot, and the smell of burning flesh. I must have passed out at that point.
“Well, all right. Like I said, if you’re lucky, the memory loss won’t be total or permanent, and little fragments will start to shift into place over the coming days, weeks, or months even. In the meantime, try to get some rest. Hopefully by the time your mom and sister get here, you’ll have remembered a little more, and can fill them in on what’s going on.
“My sister?” Tears welled in my eyes instantly.
“Yes.” He frowned down at the clipboard. “Leah, is it?”
“Almost. It’s Rhea, rhymes with Leah.”
“Oh. Sorry, my bad. Anyway, your mother said she was organizing flights for the two of them and would be here as soon as she could.”
“Oh great. Thank you. Thank you so much!”
“No need to thank me. The admin team contacted your next of kin from your insurance details. It’s standard procedure.”
“Oh I know, but still... I appreciate it. I really appreciate it. Thank you so much.” I was aware that I had a goofy grin on my face as I gushed.
“It’s our pleasure. I’m glad we can make you feel better in more ways than just the medical fix. Oh, actually speaking of next of kin, I’m guessing your boyfriend has ducked out for some air, or to grab something to eat or drink.”
“My boyfriend?”
“Hmm... Seems like a nice guy. He’s barely left your side since he got here yesterday.” He referred to the documentation in his hand again. “Let me see, so that I don’t get this one wrong, also... It’s Kane, I think?”