pright. In spare, economical movements, she maneuvered Kayla to a sit, then helped her to a shaky stand. She clung to Sarah and tried to walk. She had to kind of drag her heavy right leg as they made their slow, shuffling way to the door across the room.
“Do you think you can use the toilet by yourself, honey?”
Toilet. The word fluttered around for a second, then landed on the white porcelain seat beside her. Toilet. “Yes,” she answered, gripping the counter unsteadily. She was shaking and breathing hard, but she could stand on her own.
“I’ll be just outside if you need me. ” Sarah backed away and half-closed the door behind her.
Kayla sank onto the cold seat. It burned when she urinated, so badly that she had to clamp a hand over her mouth to keep from crying out. When she was finished, she leaned forward and grabbed the counter again, dragging her reluctant body to an awkward stand.
That’s when she saw herself in the mirror. Her face was chalky pale. And her hair was short; it looked as if it had been cut with children’s scissors.
But her hair was long—down to her waist. Julian wouldn’t let her cut it.
Shaking, she leaned closer to the mirror, pressed her damp palms to the cold glass. There were tiny lines around her eyes and mouth. Lines she’d never seen before … the kind of lines that Mama had, and there were more than a few gray hairs threaded through all that black …
She screamed.
The door burst open and Sarah was there. “What happened?”
Kayla tottered around, her hands on her face. “I’m … old. Oh, God … what happened?”
“I’ll get the doctor. ”
Kayla grabbed the woman’s sleeve. “I’m old … what happened?”
Sarah wrenched away. “I’ll be right back. ” She ran from the room. The door slammed shut behind her.
Kayla grabbed a handful of her hair—so short now—and stared at the gray strands. She couldn’t breathe; her knees felt weak. “Oh … God …”
How long had she been lying in that bed? How long—
Dr. Penn rushed into the room. A breathless, flushed Sarah waddled along behind him.
Kayla looked at him and started to cry. “How old am I?” In her mind, she screamed the question, but in truth it came out as a hacked-up whisper.
Dr. Penn took her hand and held it. “Calm down, Mike. ”
“I’m Kayla. ” This time she did scream.
“Do you want a sedative, Doctor?” Sarah asked.
“No! Don’t put me back to sleep. I’ll … be quiet. ” Kayla gulped in a great, wheezing breath of air. She clung to the doctor’s hand, staring at him through a stinging veil of tears. “I’m … scared …”
He touched her face gently, as if he were a friend, and she wondered how it was possible to sleep so long that you woke up old. “Remember what I told you? You’ve been in a coma, Mike. I thought with your nursing background you’d remember. I forgot that … oh, never mind. ”
This time she remembered the word—coma. It came with a picture of that girl, Karen Ann Quinlan, curled into a ball, weighing nothing …
Dr. Penn was still talking. He didn’t know that there was a roaring white noise in her head. “It’ll come back to you … Kayla. If you just relax. ”
Her mouth trembled. Tears found their way into the corners of her mouth, leaving a wet, salty taste on her tongue. “How long … asleep?”
“A little more than a month. ”
The relief she felt at that was so stunning she laughed out loud. She meant to wipe her eyes, but she had no control. She smacked herself in the nose and laughed harder.
“It’s okay,” Dr. Penn said in a nice, even voice. “Your emotions are off track right now, along with your motor skills. But there’s no permanent damage. It’ll all come back. ”
She was still grinning as tears rolled down her cheeks and plopped onto her bare arm. She felt like an idiot, laughing and crying at the same time. She didn’t care about her motor skills; she cared about her life. “How old … am I?”