“What . . . What happened?”
“A car accident. You hit your head and were unresponsive. You’ve got quite a
nasty gash on your left temple and on your cheek.”
“An accident?” My eyes widen and the sharp bite of the bandage pulls against my skin. I wince in pain and then she gives me a small smile. “Can I see? Do you have a mirror?” I motion to my face and the shorter woman proceeds to leave the room. I turn my attention back to the remaining nurse, who is speaking.
“Yes, you were brought in a little bit ago. I can’t tell you much more than that, but from what I hear, there’s nothing to fear. You’ll be okay.” The other nurse walks back in and approaches the bed, placing a mirror in my hand. Just as she had said, a bandage covers my forehead. My eyes are dull today. You can barely see the blue as my pupils are dilated. My once blonde hair is now matted and caked to my skin. I look skeletal and pale. “I notified the attendee that you’re awake, so he’ll come speak to you once he gets in,” she says before stepping out of the room.
My gaze locks on the window, and I watch as the snow softly falls, drifting down the pane and leaving streaks of murky water. The familiar cage closes in all around me, robbing me of air.
I’m afraid . . .
And I’m not ready to face the truth.
I’m not ready to face what’s happening to me.
Hearing footsteps, I turn my attention back to the door and am met with a pair of soft brown eyes that I know so well.
“Oh, my God,” Sydney cries as she steps into the room. Her face is blanched and her straight brown locks are now back to their curly form thanks to the snow. “You’re awake. Thank God. I was so scared.” She grabs my hand and it feels so warm wrapped around mine. I welcome the comfort, leaning closer to her to bask in the feeling of home she evokes.
“What are you doing here? How did you know I was here?”
Her brow lifts up in confusion. “How could I not be here? I got the phone call and I came at once.”
Of course she’s here. She’s the type of friend who would always be there for me. That’s one of the things I love most about her: how fiercely loyal she is. We’ve only been friends for a short time, but with Sydney, time doesn’t matter. The moment we met at the office, I felt as if I had known her a lifetime.
When my father passed, his best friend Richard had stepped in, assuming a father figure role. After I told him I was uncertain what major I should declare, he volunteered to discuss my options. Richard also happened to own one of the leading marketing firms in the city. Together we decided a degree in marketing would be a great fit, and once I was done, he had a spot ready for me.
I HAD BEEN at my new job for all of one minute and I already loved it. The energy, sounds and excited voices booming through the hallways were everything I hoped for. As I stepped farther into the space, Richard lifted his head. His lips turned up in a giant smile and he strode over to me. Greeting me with a fatherly hug, he walked me over to a set of desks positioned in front of a giant window overlooking Park Avenue.
“This will be your desk.” Richard pointed to the desk adjacent to where a pretty brunette worked. “And this is Sydney White. She’s on your team.” Her eyes were locked on Richard as he spoke and as if on cue her mouth split into a large smile, showcasing a mouth full of perfectly white teeth. “Get settled and then come to my office so I can go over some information with you.” He laid his hand on my shoulder and gave me a reassuring squeeze. “It’s good to have you here.” He gave me one last smile, then turned his back and walked down the hall.
Sydney sighed. “Damn, that was a close call.” Her brow furrowed.
“Are you okay? You look a little pale,” I asked her as she glanced over her shoulder to see if anyone is behind her. “Is it Richard? Do you not like him?”
“Oh, no, nothing like that. It’s really no biggie. I’ve just been spending a lot of time lately looking for a roommate instead of leads and I thought I was busted.”
“Roommate?”
“Yeah, my current one totally ditched me. She met some guy and skipped out. Didn’t even pay this month’s rent. Trying to find a roommate sucks.” She huffed as she threw her hands up in the air.
“I wouldn’t know. I live with my mom.”
“Shut up!” she exclaimed, making me laugh. This girl definitely had a flair for the dramatic. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-two.”
“You’re twenty-two and you’ve never had a roommate? Not even in college?”
I shook my head and her eyes grew wide. “My college was close to home. I didn’t need to dorm. It’s pretty pathetic, actually,” I responded in a timid voice.
“Move in with me.”
My mouth flew open.
“I’m not even joking. You have no idea what types of freaks I’m finding on this site. I mean, you seem like a cool girl . . . please. Unless you’re a serial killer or something, then I revoke the invitation.”
“I . . . I . . .”
“Come on . . . You can’t live with your mom forever. Time to fly the nest.”
She did have a point. “Um . . .”
“Say you’ll think about it. Please,” she whined and I couldn’t help but nod in agreement as I stifled my laugh. I knew, right then and there, that not only would I move in with this crazy girl, but also it would be the best decision of my life.
One week later we were roommates.
SHAKING my head to pull myself out of the memory from two years ago, I focus on Sydney and try to remember why I’m here.
“What happened?” My brain feels cloudy. It’s as if the information is hovering above me but I just can’t reach it.
“We were at the funeral. You remember being at the funeral, right?” Her eyes close, then reopen with unshed tears.
The muscles in my chest tighten, gripping my heart to the point of pain. How could I forget? Richard is dead. My mentor, my boss, my father figure. The only father I know—knew. Closing my eyes, I think back to him. He was the one who was there for me through everything for years.
MY SMALL, fourteen-year-old body wracked with sobs as I pressed my head to my pillow. Tears poured from my eyes, wetting my long, tangled hair. In the faint distance the door creaked open, followed by footsteps padding on the wood floors.
“Where’s your mom?” Richard asked as he walked into my room. Often he stopped by our apartment to check on me and my mom, always making sure we were okay. I peeked up at him, pushing my hair out of my eyes.
“She’s sick.” My voice cracked as my chin trembled with my sobs.
“Why are you crying, sweetheart?”
“She’s always sick. She doesn’t do anything but lay around in her bed,” I stuttered and he nodded with understanding. This was what my mom did. She said she was unwell and never left her room. Just cried all day and all night. But no doctor could ever find anything wrong, and that made her cry even more.
“What happened? What did she miss?”
“She didn’t miss anything, but you know how she is. There’s always something. What if she’s sick again? What if she won’t leave her room again for days?” Richard sat on the edge of the bed. I scooted closer until his arm draped against my shoulder and I let out a muffled cry.
“I know I’m not your father but I think of you as my daughter. Tell me where you need me to be, and I’ll never let you down. I promise.”
Life was never easy with my mom, but Richard made it bearable. He never forgot his promise. He was always there.
I OPEN my eyes and meet Sydney’s stare.
“When they pulled you out of the car, you wouldn’t wake up, so someone called for an ambulance and they brought you here.” She bites her lip. Sydney only does that when she’s nervous.
“What? What aren’t you telling me?” My eyes narrow.
“They tried to call your mom as your next of kin, but she refused to come in to the hospital, so they got in touch with me. Good thing we added each other as emergency contacts when you walked into that wall and had to have stitches.” She laughs, but it does nothing to soothe the pain growing inside me.
No matter how much I tell myself not to expect much from my mom, that she’s “sick” and can’t help herself, it doesn’t lessen the ache in my heart. At the end of the day there isn’t anything wrong with her other than the fact that she’s a hypochondriac. One who, for the last eighteen years since my father’s death, has been too scared to live. She wouldn’t even go to Richard’s funeral and that felt like a slap in the face considering all he’s done for us.
Shaking my head, I turn my attention back to Sydney. “Do they know what caused the accident?”
Sydney’s nose crinkles and she puckers her lips as she peers around the room. The nurse is in the corner, but she’s rummaging through the cabinets looking for something and it appears she’s not paying attention to us. Satisfied with this, Sydney leans in closer.
“They’re not really sure,” she whispers. “But . . . but they said you didn’t hit your brakes.”
“I don’t understand?” My hand rises to my mouth, smothering a gasp. “Oh, my God, they think I did it on purpose?”
“I know, sweetie, I know. But do you remember what happened? What made you crash?”
“I honestly have no clue.”
Her hand strokes my arm as I continue to sob. “I’m sure it will come back to you. You were really distraught when you fled the funeral.”
I shake my head. “I can’t remember anything from the funeral. Is that normal?”
“I don’t know, but they did say you had a concussion.”
The nurse chooses that moment to make her way to the side of my bed with a blood pressure kit.
“Excuse me, I was wondering if it’s normal for Eve to not remember anything from right before the car accident?” Sydney asks her.
“It’s actually quite normal, dear. After a concussion, sometimes your memory will be a little spotty. It should come back as the swelling recedes.” She smiles down at me as she places the strap around my arm.
“Oh, thank God.”
I hear the relief in Sydney’s voice and smile weakly at her. “Syd, did I say anything before I ran out?”