Not gonna happen, you big dummy. Doris chuckled. Delia will see to that.
Alonzo clapped me on the back. “Still putting in your notice?”
“I don’t know…”
He stared. “How do you not know?”
Because nothing good lasts. I have to be able to walk away. It’s how I’ve survived.
“If you’re worried about Delia, forget her,” he said. “If this miracle works on Thea, she’ll have something she hasn’t had in two years. Free will. Let her decide what she wants.”
“Alonzo—”
“You think you’re so replaceable?” he demanded with sudden fury. “You think I can pick up the phone and just find someone else? You think it’s gonna be easy for me not having you around?”
To my shock his eyes were shining.
“Forget it,” he said, shaking his head and heading out the door. “Do what you have to do. What do I care?”
Over the next few days, the sanitarium was crawling with doctors. Dr. Bernard Milton and his team from Sydney flew in and began running tests on Thea. It only took two days to come to their conclusion.
“They’re going to do it,” Rita cried. “Dr. Milton said she’s the perfect candidate and Delia’s given consent. Can you believe it? I’m so excited for her.”
“Me too.”
And scared shitless.
I’d looked up Dr. Milton’s procedure. He’d performed it on a test group of patients in Australia a few weeks ago. I didn’t understand all the technical jargon, but I grasped the surgery involved drawing bone marrow from Thea’s hip bone. The stem cells would then be processed in a lab and married with neurons drawn from her spinal fluid. A procedure called neuroendoscopy would implant the cells into the damaged areas of her hippocampus via her nasal passage. After, she would take an oral medication—a sort of bonding agent—that acted as a bridge between neurons to facilitate the memory recall.
The potential complications from surgery were aneurism, blood clots, and infection. The medication—which she’d have to take for the rest of her life—had its own risks, including elevated blood pressure and stroke.
But if that’s what it took to break her out of her prison, then there was no choice, in my mind.
The day came when Thea was transported from Blue Ridge down to Roanoke Memorial. Delia and Rita went with her, gently guiding Thea toward the medical van, talking soothingly to her along the way.
“When she comes back,” Alonzo said, standing next to me at the front door, “she’ll really be back.”
I nodded, watching her disappear into the van. His hand landed on my shoulder.
“She’ll be okay,” he said. “She’s survived the worst thing already. She’s a tough girl.”
I nodded again. Thea was tough. Stronger than anyone I knew to endure her amnesia for years without going crazy. Still, I felt like I was
holding my breath as the days creaked by, one by one.
At night, I sat on my couch in my empty house and played “I Will Follow You into The Dark” and prayed that they’d bring Thea out of the dark for good.
Thea came back on what was technically my last day at Blue Ridge, although Alonzo refused to acknowledge it. Joaquin needed me to cover his midday/evening shift, so I rolled into the sanitarium around noon. The parking lot was fuller than usual, and the medical van was parked out front.
In the break room, I began to change into my uniform, fumbling over the buttons, my heart pounding.
She’s here. She’s right here.
Footsteps pounded down the hall and the door burst open.
“You’re here,” Rita cried, breathless. She grabbed my hand. “Come with me to the rec room. Now.”
“I can’t,” I said, my throat dry.