Chapter 41
Lara
Pay attention to both bars at the edge of your screen:
These represent your health and energy stats.
When they reach zero, you’ll fall unconscious and get sent to Novel Haven Hospital. This doesn’t just cost you coins; you can also lose items from your inventory.
I wait for the pain to set in, but it doesn’t come.
All I get is white walls, which I was expecting.
But they’re lit brighter than your typical hospital wall.
There’s an oxygen mask pressed up against my nose.
I blink, and as though that little movement was too much, my entire body shakes, making something underneath me squeak.
My fingers pat at the surface I’m lying on.
I’m on some sort of stretcher, not in a hospital bed.
An ambulance. But it’s standing still, not driving, and the door seems to be open, because there’s a whisper of cool air against my cheek.
I sit up gingerly from the recovery position someone seems to have put me in and tug the mask off my face.
The man who enters my field of vision gives me a warm smile.
“Hello, Lara. Are you with us again?”
“Was I gone?”
I only realize I asked the question out loud when my throat starts to hurt like hell. The man hands me some water, and I drink a few hasty gulps.
“You were dissociated. Not unconscious, but not responsive either. It’s your body’s natural protective reaction. But you’re safe. We gave you Salbutamol so you can breathe normally. You inhaled some smoke.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. Not because my lungs are on fire, and not because my throat is pounding with pain, but because I’ve heard that sentence before.
You inhaled some smoke. Quite a bit, actually. That means it’s completely normal for your voice to sound a bit rough. We’ll do what we can, but it’s possible that the amount of smoke you’ve inhaled has caused some permanent damage.
“Is it . . .” I cough, but I keep talking around the itch in my throat. “Is there any lasting damage . . . ?”
“Everything’s OK!” My eyes pop open again, and the paramedic gives me a reassuring grin.
His name tag tells me his name is Qadir.
He has a friendly, warm smile that doesn’t falter even as he goes on.
“Your blood pressure is back to normal, and your throat should soon be too. I don’t reckon you’ll have any inflammation going on.
You weren’t exposed to that much smoke, and it was very short-term.
We’re just taking some precautions.” Qadir points at my hand, and it’s only now that I see the little black contraption clipped onto my finger.
A pulse oximeter. I remember it all too well.
It measures the oxygen saturation level of your blood.
I sit up as best I can to take a look at the little screen.
“Ninety-four percent, that’s OK,” I croak.
Qadir laughs. “I see someone knows their way around. But yes, everything is fine. Thanks to your heroic savior, your hemoglobin barely got a chance to bind any carbon monoxide.”
I give him a confused look, because at first, I think he’s talking about himself—but then I remember.
Luca.
His arms around me, his voice in my ear.
His scent, finally drowning out the acrid smell of the smoke.
I see everything through a haze now, but he was there.
He came looking for me, carried me outside, in spite of everything.
In spite of Hank, in spite of this stupid competition, and in spite of the fact that I snubbed him during our last conversation.
In spite of his fears. He was there. He is there. Always.
Tears blur my vision, but not from the pain this time. My heart does actually hurt, but not unpleasantly. It’s a longing kind of pain. A pain filled with memories but also one that yearns for the future. One that wants to cross distances.
“Where is he?”
“Mr. Brown is outside. Not that he didn’t try to get in, but I wanted to make sure you were all right first. You don’t have any injuries, but we’d rather take you to the hospital, just in case. I’m afraid we can’t do a blood gas analysis he . . .”
Qadir stops talking as I shake my head furiously. I ignore the pounding pain behind my eyes. There’s no way I’m going to the hospital.
“I’m fine, honest. It was just a shock,” I say, trying hard to make my voice sound as steady as possible. Thankfully, it has decided to cooperate. “I promise to go straight to A he’s probably experienced all sorts of things in his job.
“How bad was the fire?” I ask, and I could kick myself for not asking sooner.
Qadir shrugs while he unclips the pulse oximeter from my finger.
“Eh, the fire brigade gave the all clear. There was a cable fire or a short circuit, something like that. Looks like the circuits were overloaded. I mean, this house is ancient, and there are more visitors here than they’ve ever had before.
I suppose that’s what did the mansion in. ”
“No one was hurt?”
“Just you, which is why you’re getting my undivided attention. Your friend said you had preexisting trauma, so I recommend checking in with a pulmonary specialist eventually if we don’t take you with us now. Does that sound OK?”
“Yeah,” I reply, but there’s a knot in my chest. My respiratory specialist is where my parents are, in the town where I used to live. I haven’t visited in ages; I avoid that at all costs. Maybe I could find a new doctor in London, but . . .
Maybe it’s time to visit my parents. Time to endure their pitying glances and give them the complete rundown of what happened.
Time to finally face my past. I did that every day in Novel Haven.
I tried only carrying the pleasant parts of my past over into the present, but in the end, it’s all caught up with me.
I can’t run from it. I should have known better.
After all, it left its mark all over my skin.
Qadir seems to have misinterpreted my thoughtful expression, because he gives me a reassuring smile. “Like I said, everything’s fine. It’s just to be sure.”
“I have a pneumologist; I’ll make an appointment with him.” I stretch my legs and gingerly get up from the stretcher. When I don’t shake or sway, Qadir seems reassured as well. He hands me a fresh bottle of water.
“Right then: Drink loads over the next few days to keep your mucous membranes damp.”
I nod.
“And I mean water. I know this type of convention, so none of that sweet energy bollocks they guzzle in there, is that clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
Qadir grins at me, and I smile in spite of myself.
I’m OK. I’m fine. Sure, my throat hurts, but it’s more like a dry burning sensation.
It’s nothing like it once was. Clear, fresh air rushes into my lungs.
My skin feels like skin. I stand up straighter, brushing off the thin blanket draped over my shoulders.
Even my clothes look completely normal. There’s not even any ash on them.
“And you’d better take things a little slower over the next few days. Give your body some rest.”
“I will. Thanks for everything!” I say, and I bid Qadir goodbye. It’s dark outside, which makes for a nice contrast with the inside of the ambulance. When my boots touch the lawn, I nearly fall—not because my legs have given in, but because Nataly’s throwing her arms around me.
“I was so worried. Don’t you ever, ever, ever do that again, you hear me?” She grabs my face in both her hands, scanning it with a panicked expression, as if to make sure I’m not missing any parts. Then she gives me a big kiss on the forehead and pulls me in again. “You scared us all so much.”
“I’m sorry. I’m all right.”
“All right enough to forgive me for calling your parents?”
Now I’m the one to pull away. Nataly gives me an apologetic smile. Her eyes are red, as is the skin around them.
“I wanted to let them know. And no worries, they know everything’s all right. I gave them the all clear straightaway.”
“That’s fine,” I say, and I’m surprised to find that I mean it. “I needed to call them anyway. Or I should write to them; you can hear the way my voice sounds right now. I suppose it’s time to visit my hometown again.”
“Oh.” Nat raises her eyebrows. “Let me know if you want company. I’ll buy us some cupcakes, and we can make a road trip of it.”
“Thank you.” I return her smile, and I can see Sophia approaching. I’d rather join Luca, who’s standing a few feet away. Other than that, the lawn at Crow Manor is quite empty. I suppose most people have gone back inside.
“Lara.” Sophia pulls me into a tight hug as well, but a gentler one than Nat’s. “I’m so glad you’re all right. I would never have forgiven myself.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“Ah, a little bit.” Sophia sighs, looking first at me and then at Nat. Her eyes fill with tears again. “I’m so, so sorry. For everything. I’ve called a meeting for tomorrow morning where we’ll discuss our next steps—but I don’t want to see you there! You’ll be getting some rest!”
“I am so attending.”
Now Sophia and Nataly stare at me, eyebrows raised. “Out of the question,” Sophia says decisively. “You’re going to have a lie-in. You won’t be leaving your room. Mr. Crow has already instructed his staff to bring you food and check on you.”
“But tomorrow is the last day of the convention!” I protest, cursing my treacherous body, which thanks me for my outburst with a round of racking coughs.
“I’ll set up a live stream of the booth for you,” Nat tells me. “Besides, Sophia’s already sorted it out; I can take your place. As you know, they only allow two employees.”