“Who?”
“Freya. I mean… Marina.”
The nurse frowns and looks around the room as though she expects Marina to step out and reveal herself.
“Um, is that another nurse I’m not aware of?” she asks. “Because I thought only Carla and Ann were assigned to this job.”
“Please,” I whisper, looking around the room. “Please let me out of here.”
Her brow furrows. “Oh, dear…”
“I need to get out of here before she comes back. Please.”
“Dear,” the nurse says. “You must be a little disoriented. The only people here are the ones that have been taking care of you for the past two days.”
Two days. Now, that one has got to be a joke. Right?
Right?
“You’re lying.” I feel bad just saying it. This woman seems so legitimate. She says she’s a nurse and she certainly looks the part, but if I’ve learned anything in the last few months, it’s that I’m a shit judge of character.
It’s her turn to blink in confusion. “Why would I lie about that? Maybe I should go and get—”
“If you bring her in here, I’ll scream.”
“Honey,” the nurse says, reaching for my hand. I flinch back, and she looks at me with obvious pity. “You’ve really been through something, haven’t you?”
“Just let me go,” I whisper.
“I don’t think you’re being forced to stay, honey.”
I want to laugh out loud. If only that were true.
“Let’s just… let’s just get you out of that wet t-shirt, okay?” she tries again.
I shake my head and push myself into the farthest corner of the bed. The nurse looks at a loss for words. She’s spared from making a third attempt at helping me when the door opens and two people stride in.
The first is a man in a white coat and thick, round glasses with clear frames. The second is a woman with blonde hair.
Fear hits me so hard that I don’t even stop to look at her face. The scream leaves my throat instantly, and once I’ve started screaming, I’m not sure I can stop.
The room descends into chaos, everyone scurrying around. Through it all, the blonde nurse rushes towards me.
“Hold her down!” she barks in a commanding voice.
I’m so panicked that I can’t see. Can’t think. I’m convinced this blonde woman is Marina, and I refuse to let her anywhere near me.
“Don’t touch me!” I shriek when she tries to get closer. “Don’t fucking touch me!”
The woman steps out of range of my thrashing. “Take her arm. We might have to sedate her.”
“No!” I scream, tossing my arms and legs violently,
The blonde stumbles back, and it suddenly strikes me that she’s a lot bigger than Marina. Then I realize Marina’s hair isn’t even blonde right now. She dyed it so that she could transform into Freya.
But as true as those observations are, panic never really listens to reason, does it? I continue to kick and scream and fling pillows at the poor nurse. Because I won’t be sedated. I’m not going to lose control. Not the way I did back at Laurel Manor when I sat on that bench, incapacitated and helpless, fading off into a black haze and wondering if my baby would be lost to the jagged cruelty of a broken woman.
“Mathers!”