Chapter 1 Elior #2
“That’s okay,” he said quietly. My fingers tightened in the blanket. “It’s pretty normal after something like this,” he continued. “Why don’t we start smaller. Can you tell me what you remember?”
My stomach clenched.
I didn’t want to remember. Remembering felt dangerous, like stepping onto thin ice. But he was watching me—not like Father watched, searching for faults, but like he was afraid of pushing too hard and breaking something.
“I was…” I swallowed. “I was in Father’s house.”
Patel nodded once, slow and encouraging. “Okay. Take your time.”
I stared at the far wall, focusing on a tiny crack near the corner where the paint didn’t quite meet right. It helped keep me talking.
“I’d gone there because he asked for me,” I said. My voice sounded far away, like it belonged to someone else.
I didn’t say anything about the cane.
Didn’t say anything about the pain, or the way my heart felt like it’d been torn out of my chest and trampled on.
“Someone came running in, but I don’t know who,” I continued, choosing my words carefully. “He sounded scared, though.”
Patel leaned back slightly in his chair, giving me more space. “What did he say?”
“I don’t remember exactly,” I admitted. “Just… that something was happening. That there were people coming.” My brow furrowed. “I think he said the police.”
Patel’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes sharpened just a little.
“And then?” he prompted gently.
“And then Father left,” I said, my stomach twisting at the memory.
“And I was alone for a while.” I paused, my breathing shallow.
“When I finally went outside, there were people everywhere. They were running. Crying. There were strangers. With guns.” I wrapped my arms around myself without realizing it.
“They were shouting orders. Telling people to get on the ground. I didn’t—I don’t understand why.
” My voice wavered despite my effort to keep it steady. “We didn’t do anything wrong.”
Patel didn’t correct me. He didn’t argue. He just listened.
“I saw Father again,” I said quietly. “He was being held down, and then they dragged him away.”
I stopped there.
I didn’t tell him exactly what Father said to me.
Didn’t tell him about the names, or the hatred, or the way I think I’d shattered into a hundred million pieces when Father looked at me like I was nothing but filth.
My chest felt too tight to go on.
Patel waited a few seconds, then spoke. “That’s a lot for anyone to witness,” he said. “Especially someone who wasn’t expecting it.”
I nodded faintly.
“I think…” I hesitated, then shook my head. “I’m sorry, it’s all so blurry. I remember Jace being there, and you too…” I trailed off, shame curling in my gut.
“That’s okay,” Patel assured me. “Gaps in memory are very common after shock.”
I sank back against the pillows, suddenly exhausted, the fog pulling heavier at my thoughts. My eyelids drooped, but I fought to keep them open.
“Elior,” Patel said softly, noticing. “If you get tired, that’s okay. We can stop.”
“Don’t go,” I said without thinking.
His deep brown eyes flicked back to mine. “I’m not going anywhere.”
I nodded, clinging to that simple promise, even as the room blurred slightly at the edges.
“Am I in trouble?” I couldn’t remember if I’d already asked that question, but it was a burning weight on my mind. Surely, I had to have done something wrong, and that was why I was here.
Wherever here was.
“No,” he answered softly.
“Can I see Father?”
The room was quiet for a moment. “…No.”
“Why not?”
“Because he is in trouble.”
The words sat between us heavily.
“In trouble,” I repeated faintly.
“Yeah,” he said.
My fingers tightened in the blanket again, twisting the fabric until my knuckles ached. “Did he… did I make it worse?” I asked. “Did I get him in trouble?”
“No,” Patel answered adamantly. “You didn’t cause any of this.”
“But he said—”
“I know what he said,” Patel cut in gently, but firmly. “And I’m sorry. But what he said wasn’t the truth.”
I shook my head weakly. “He wouldn’t lie.”
Patel exhaled. “Sometimes people lie to protect themselves. Sometimes they lie to keep control.” He paused, watching my face. “He’s been lying to you for a very long time.”
“About what?” I asked.
“Maybe everything.”
I looked despondently at my lap.
“If he’s in trouble,” I whispered, “then why am I here?”
My gaze drifted back to the needle in my arm. The tape tugged at my skin every time I shifted, a constant reminder that I wasn’t just having a nightmare—this was my reality. “And what is that? Why is it in me?”
“It’s called an IV. Do you see those bags?” he asked, pointing above my head.
I nodded after glancing up and seeing two clear bags hanging on a tall pole by the side of the bed.
“Well, anything that gets put in those bags goes into your bloodstream from that needle. You were dehydrated when we brought you in, so the nurses hooked you up to fluids to rehydrate you. They also put a little medicine in there a while ago to help you relax.”
“Okay.” That sounded too complicated for me to comprehend. It was all so confusing and scary, but it felt a bit better having someone try to explain things. “And what about… why I’m here?”
“Well, there are a lot of reasons for you being here, but the most important one is to make sure you’re healthy and safe. We’ll worry about the rest later.”
“How long do I have to stay here?”
“As long as it takes for you to be medically stable,” he said. “Then we’ll talk about next steps.”
“Next steps,” I echoed. “Like… where I’ll go?”
“Yes.”
My throat closed. “I can’t go back home, can I?”
Patel hesitated, just for a fraction of a second, but it was more than enough. “No,” he said quietly. “You can’t.”
A sound tore out of my chest before I could stop it—thin and broken and humiliating. I turned my face into the pillow, pressing my mouth into the fabric, as if that might keep the noise inside me.
I felt his presence shift closer. The chair creaked softly.
“I know,” Patel murmured, something sad in his tone. “I know this feels like everything is being taken from you all at once. But that doesn’t mean there’s nothing left.”
I lay there, breathing unevenly, letting the fog pull at me again. My body was so tired—like it had been running for days without stopping.
“Will Jace really come see me?” I asked, eventually, barely audible.
Patel was quiet for a moment. “Yes,” he said. “He will.”
“And he’s… he’s not angry?”
“No,” Patel said. “He’s worried.”
“About me?”
“Yes,” he said simply.
I didn’t know what to do with that.
My eyelids grew heavier, the medicine they’d given me finally winning. The room stayed dim and quiet, mercifully so.
“Elior,” Patel said as my eyes slipped shut. “You don’t have to figure everything out today. We’re here to help you through it.”
I nodded faintly, even though he might not have seen it.
“Get some rest. A nurse will come in a few minutes to bandage your injuries. I’ll be here when you wake up.”