Chapter 11 Ginny
ELEVEN
GINNY
My stash of ribbons was gone.
Panic made my lungs burn as I tore through the room, upending the thin mattress and tearing open the pillow.
Nothing.
They had to be somewhere.
The meagre contents of my nightstand were scattered across the floor, yet not a ribbon to be seen.
‘Where are they?’ My voice shook as I searched again through the few items I had. A picture of Mama and Pops, a strand-filled hairbrush and a few pieces of bric-a-brac.
When my area came up empty, I moved on to the other beds in the room, upending each mattress and hunting through every nook and cranny I could find.
My pulse quickened with each moment I went without them. My ribbons. I needed them.
‘They were here,’ I whispered. ‘I kept them right here.’
Nurse Nancy appeared at the ward door, and I threw myself toward her, stumbling at her feet and gripping the bottom of her dress.
‘They’re gone,’ I said, tears painting my cheeks.
Her cheeks flushed pink, and she barely met my eyes as I searched her face.
‘What happened?’ she asked, gently unhooking my fingers from her skirts and stepping into the room.
‘They’re gone,’ I blubbed. ‘Someone’s taken them.’
‘What’s gone, Ginny?’
‘My pink ribbons. Mama’s ribbons.’ Panic wrapped my throat tight. ‘I need them.’
Nancy set about righting the room, lifting thin mattresses back into place and bending to scoop up fallen items.
‘They can’t have gone far. I’ll help you look.’
‘I need them,’ I pleaded.
My breath came in stuttered gasps as I pressed my hands over my stomach, grounding myself in the life I held there.
My baby.
They couldn’t take her.
‘Why would someone take them?’
‘Shh, Ginny,’ Nancy soothed, picking me up from my spot on the floor. ‘Don’t work yourself up. It won’t be good for the baby.’
I couldn’t stop. I pulled the pillow’s innards out in an explosion of tiny white feathers. My knuckles stung. Small, angry red lines marked their way over my hands.
When had I done that?
Nancy’s eyes snagged on them too. She caught my wrists, feathers drifting around us in a cloud born of my stress.
‘Stop. Look what you’ve done, Ginny. Look at your hands. You’re hurting yourself.’
The hot tears tracked down my cheeks. ‘It wasn’t me. I didn’t…I just need them back.’
‘They’ll sedate you,’ Nancy whispered, her eyes growing wide. ‘You need to calm down.’
Fear truly spiked then. The white coats. The prick of the needle. The helplessness. A tremor stole over me.
Nancy crossed the space and wrapped me up in safety. In her arms. I stiffened at the sudden touch before sagging against her. She was motherly. Kind.
My sobs broke free in guttural shakes against her softness. A hand moved into my hair, stroking slowly and steadily. Murmuring something into my hair that I couldn’t quite make out.
‘It’s all right, sweetheart. I’ll get you new ribbons. Just the same.’
My breath caught, and I pulled back to look up at her. ‘You will?’
‘I will. I’ll look after you. I promise.’
‘You’re like the big sister I never had,’ I said, pressing my face back into her tear-stained shoulder.
My scratched hands were so red against her uniform, and it left an uneasy feeling creeping low in my stomach. Like some part of me had been misplaced with the ribbons.