Chapter Fourteen
Grace
Machines hum all around me, along with a beeping that matches the throbbing in my temples.
My throat burns. Rough and raw, like I’ve been screaming for hours—or days. Something is wrapped around my head. I want to touch it, but I’m too weak to move.
Little twitches—my fingers, toes, lips—are all I can manage.
The beeping quickens.
What’s going on? Where am I? My stomach twists in on itself. Bile burns the back of my aching throat.
“Senora?” The man’s voice is soft, with a thick Mexican accent. Gently, he lifts one of my eyelids, blinds me with a bright light, and repeats the process with my other lid.
A tiny whimper from close by sends panic prickling over my skin. Until I realize it came from me.
“Shhh. You are safe here.”
He’s close enough to rest his hand on mine. The beeping is so fast now, it’s almost a constant tone.
“You must stay calm, senora. Manda la calma.”
No.
I’d scream the word if I could. Stay calm? I can’t move. Can’t open my eyes. And there’s a strange man touching me. I have to get out of here. He’ll hurt me. He’ll lock me away and I’ll disappear forever.
It takes all the strength I have to open my eyes. I have to know who this man is. But everything’s blurry. Hazy. Like I’m looking through a dirty window.
Brown hair. Tanned skin. Stubble. A white coat.
“?Senora? ?Habla ingles? English?”
English. Yes.
I nod. Big mistake. The room starts to spin. Squeezing my eyes shut, I will myself not to throw up. It…mostly works. More bile coats my tongue. The bitter taste makes me gag, which sends shooting pain spiraling out from my side.
“Breathe,” the man says softly. “I do not want your stitches to tear.”
Stitches?
The beeping eases a fraction as I drag air into my lungs.
“Better. You must be frightened, but I swear, you are safe, senora. Injured, but safe. I am Dr. Alejandro Reyes. This is my clinic,” he says and perches on the edge of a chair next to the bed. “If your blood pressure rises any higher, I will have to sedate you.”
My vision has cleared enough for me to make out the doctor’s face. His brown eyes are kind. A jagged scar runs from his ear down his jaw and across his throat.
“Do you understand?” he asks. “Please say something. Or tell me your name. You had no identification on you when you were found.”
I blink up at him. It’s a simple request. My name. It’s…it’s…
Tears slip down my temples.
“I…don’t…know. Why…don’t I…?”
Reyes curls his fingers around mine. “You suffered a serious head injury. A cranial fracture. Your brain had already started to swell when you were brought here. I operated to repair the broken bone, then put you in a medically induced coma to let the swelling go down. I did not know if you’d be able to speak—or even wake up—until a few minutes ago. ”
I search for a memory—any memory—but my entire life is…gone.
“Can’t…remember…anything.” My rough, dry throat seizes, and I start to cough. The pain in my side is so intense, my vision goes white.
Reyes presses a straw to my chapped lips. “Water. Slow sips. You were intubated for almost forty-eight hours.”
“M-my…side…” I whisper once I can breathe again. “Hurts.”
His warm brown eyes shift to the floor. “Senora, you need to rest. I will explain everything, but I am afraid you are not strong enough yet to hear it.”
I have to prove him wrong. Gritting my teeth, I reach for him and wrap my fingers around his wrist. “Who…am…I?”
His voice takes on such a sorrowful tone, I want to cry. “I do not know. But the brain is a wondrous thing. You could wake up tomorrow and remember everything.”
I turn my head—as much as the throbbing pain allows—and see a shock of blond hair draped over my shoulder.
Shit.
I don’t even know what I look like.
How do you forget who you are?
“Mirror,” I croak. “P-please.”
Reyes stiffens. “Are you certain? There is significant bruising.”
I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life. Or…I don’t think I have. “Yes.”
The doctor pulls out his phone and opens the camera app. “Here.”
My hand shakes too much, so Reyes does his best to get the angle right. The white bandage around my head shocks me, but it’s nothing compared to seeing myself for the first time.
Dark circles swell under my blue-green eyes.
The deep purple bruise on the left side of my face almost looks like…a boot print. A long scar follows the curve of my right cheekbone.
“I don’t know her.” The words fall from my lips like dust. Gritty and in so many pieces, I’ll never put them back together again.
Carefully, I ease my head back down to the pillows. The throbbing gets so much worse.
“You are not alone, senora. Not anymore. I will do whatever I can to find out who you are.” Reyes gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze. “A white, American woman missing will have made the news. Somewhere.”
I want to believe him. But panic swells in my chest and the beeping gets faster and faster until the pain in my head is overwhelming.
I want to ask more questions, but the words won’t come. They’re all tangled together like someone took the letters, scrambled them in a bowl, and dumped them out on the floor in front of me.
Reyes injects something into the IV—how do I know what an IV is, but not my name?—and within a few seconds, my body starts to float.
Closing my eyes, I give into the gaping emptiness of where my life should be.