Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 120230 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120230 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
“I—” She squeezed her knees with her hands. “I was so sure, but it’s gone now.” Her voice trembled. “I c-can’t—”
“Don’t worry about it,” Phoenix said. “You took a hard blow. Your memories will settle after a while.”
I knew that was comfort, not truth. Sometimes, the memories never returned. It had been like that with me when I’d had one of those stupid household accidents V had described and whacked my head on the edge of an open cupboard door in my kitchen. I remembered standing up from looking inside the lower cupboards . . . and then I was waking up in the hospital.
Yet, at some point during that time, I’d staggered to the cell phone I’d left on the little table beside my sofa. I’d called emergency services, and had apparently opened the door to them, too.
When I’d finally come home, it was to a trail of blood around my apartment. It’d looked like a crime scene. Complete with fingerprints in blood and photos pulled off the walls as I staggered around. Later, I’d learned that when I spoke to the paramedics, it was with my Oyster card in hand. I’d had a conversation with them, insisted I could take the Tube to the hospital.
I had zero memory of any of that, and even though I knew it was stupid, a small part of me continued to wonder if it was the head wound that had caused my eyes to go dark. I knew it was a genetic disease. I knew. But it was easier to blame a physical injury. It gave the diagnosis chasing me heft and shape.
“Will I remember?” Darcie’s eyes were huge and wet. “Later?”
24
Phoenix patted her on the shoulder. “Don’t stress about it. Like I said, things will settle down, be clearer after you’ve had time to recover.”
“Here.” Vansi held out a couple of pills with an empathetic smile. “They’re painkillers from my own personal stash for migraines, bit stronger than the usual over-the-counter meds. No side effects other than a little bit of dry mouth.”
Intercepting the pills, Ash whispered in Vansi’s ear. From her sudden intake of breath, he had to be asking her if they were safe to take during pregnancy. He might have fudged things by saying they weren’t sure yet but had been trying. Whatever Vansi said in response seemed to satisfy him and he put the pills in Darcie’s hand and gently urged her to take them.
Darcie obeyed with childlike compliance, swallowing the medication using the water Vansi had given her; she even finished the glass when instructed. And though she refused to go upstairs to rest in her room, she allowed Ash to sit next to her and cuddle her close.
Probably a good idea to have her in sight of others. Head injuries could be unpredictable. The doctors had refused to allow me to go home until I’d called up a friend to come stay with me for a couple of days.
I hadn’t spoken to that friend—that good, kind person—since my diagnosis.
Slowly, things began to settle again. Kaea, back on his sofa, pointed out the pack of cards left from an earlier game, Aaron served us a nourishing stew that was all about comfort, and Grace put on music. We all groaned when Rick Astley’s mellow tones poured out of the portable speakers Aaron had brought along.
“My ’80s playlist is extensive,” Grace boasted with a grin, waving her phone in the air, so of course, we had to make requests.
With the fire flickering in the hearth, the good food, and the music that Grace kept at a volume that didn’t overwhelm the quiet conversation, even Darcie began to smile.
At one point, after Ash got up to use the bathroom, I went to sit next to her. “How are you feeling?”
“Like an idiot,” she muttered, raising a hand to the back of her head but stopping before she touched the wound. It wasn’t bleeding anymore, but her hair was matted and rusty with the dried fluid. I didn’t point that out to her; she’d figure it out on her own, and by then, it would hopefully be safe for her to take a shower.
Because Darcie would not rest easy once she knew, far less go to bed in that state.
“Ash told me where you two found me. I must’ve decided to take the shortcut to the pantry.” A pained smile. “Bea and I used to run wild through the passageways—at least until our parents put a stop to it. They locked all the entries they could find. Said it was for safety, but I think it was really because they were scared we’d see or hear something we shouldn’t if we accidentally ended up near their bedroom.”
“I wondered if there was more than one hidden passage.”
Darcie shook her head at my implied question. “It’s our secret, mine and Bea’s. To be passed on only to our children.” A hitch in her breath. “I haven’t even shown Ash most of them.”