Episode 210
DOCTOR MY EYES
Misty
I see it in their eyes. In Heather’s. And in June’s before she left the deck.
They don’t believe me. They think I’m faking it.
My breath huffs in and out, loud and ragged. My chest aches from the effort, and I can’t seem to catch enough air. It’s like I’m breathing through heat.
My skin is drenched in sweat, but I’m cold.
Not the good kind, not the kind that cools you off after a run.
This chill creeps deep, settling in my bones as my clothes stick to me.
My tongue feels swollen and dry, like it’s coated in sand.
I try to swallow, but there’s no spit left.
Just that raw, scratchy burn in the back of my throat.
My vision flickers at the edges, dark spots floating like gnats I can’t swat away.
“Let’s get you inside,” Darby, the doctor, says.
Sebastian and Alex help me through the doors and into the kitchen. The staff is cleaning up, and they lead me into the recreation room, which is currently vacant.
“Lay her down on the couch,” Darby instructs.
I sink into the cushions, but they feel too soft, too deep, like they might swallow me whole. The ceiling swims above me, shifting in and out of focus.
Darby kneels beside me, her bag open on the coffee table. “Can someone get cold compresses and a bottle of water? Not too fast. Small sips.”
“I’ll do it,” Sebastian says, already moving.
Alex stays close, pacing just a few feet away like he’s not sure if he wants to stay or bolt. His jaw is locked tight, his eyes unreadable.
Yes. They think I’m faking it.
My fingers tremble as I try to wipe the sweat off my face, but they won’t cooperate. They twitch uselessly in my lap. A bolt of panic zips through me, making my throat clamp shut.
“I—” I try to speak, but my voice breaks.
It’s not just dehydration. It’s something deeper. A current beneath the surface. A sickness in my chest I don’t know how to name.
Darby helps me sit up and then presses a cool stethoscope to my back. “Deep breaths.”
I try. The air goes in, jagged and hot. I cough, and the sound is too dry, too harsh.
Sebastian returns with a bottle and a cold towel.
Darby takes the water, unscrews the cap, and holds it to my lips. “Sip.”
It hurts going down. Just that small swallow feels like sandpaper. But my body takes it like it’s nectar.
“Better?” she asks.
No. Not really.
But I nod.
The cold towel presses against my forehead, and I flinch. The sweat. The shaking. The way my skin feels stretched too tight over bones that won’t stop aching.
Sebastian sits beside me. “You’re okay,” he says, like he’s trying to convince himself. “Just overheated.”
But I know better.
I’m not okay. Not even close.
“Where’s Jake?” I manage to whisper.
No one answers.
Alex walks toward the window and peers through the blinds like he’s expecting something—or someone.
Darby studies me a beat longer and then packs up her stethoscope. “Let’s get her upstairs to her room.”
“That’s two flights,” Sebastian says.
“She needs to rest and to keep hydrating. She’ll be more comfortable in her own room, and we’ll have privacy so I can examine her more thoroughly.”
“Yeah, okay.” Sebastian gestures to Alex. “Come on.”
They help me off the couch.
Breathing is a little easier now.
But who am I kidding?
I didn’t lose my breath because I ran too hard on the beach. I’m a master of breath control.
This is something else.
A few minutes later—after I get evil eyes from both Sienna and Emily as we pass them—I’m back in my own suite.
Alex and Sebastian help me to my bed, and Darby follows.
“If you’ll excuse us, gentlemen,” she says.
“Yeah, sure,” Sebastian says.
He and Alex leave my bedroom, closing the door behind them.
Darby sets her bag down at the edge of the bed. She’s speaking—asking me something about my fluid intake, my blood pressure—but her voice feels far away. Like I’m underwater. Like my body is here, but my mind…
Back to the moment I saw him.
Jake.
Alive.
Darby takes my pulse. She gently presses the back of her hand to my clammy forehead, tucks a thermometer under my tongue. She’s thorough, calm, competent. But none of it touches what’s wrong.
Because it’s not my body that’s broken.
It’s my mind.
It’s my soul.
My brother is alive. And not just alive. Here. On this island.
I feel the tears rising before I even realize it’s happening. One slides down the side of my face. Then another. But that’s it. No more water.
Darby notices. Her eyes soften. “You’re safe now,” she says gently.
I almost laugh. But it would come out sounding like a scream.
Safe?
I’ve never been safe.
But maybe I could have been. Maybe, if my birth mother had kept me, my big brother would have kept me safe.
“Jake,” I whisper. “Jake is my half-brother.”
A beat of silence. The room seems to still around us.
“I didn’t even know he existed until recently. Then they told me he was dead.”
Darby says nothing. She just places her hand gently on my shoulder.
“They all said he was dead. But he’s not. He’s here. He didn’t know about me.”
Darby doesn’t speak. She just waits, her touch steady on my shoulder, like she knows this is one of those moments where the silence matters more than any words.
“I saw his face,” I whisper. “He looked right at me, and…nothing. Not even a flicker.” My throat burns, but it’s not from dehydration this time. “He doesn’t know he has a sister. But how could he not see it? The resemblance between us?”
“If he doesn’t know, he probably wouldn’t be thinking in those terms,” she says gently. “Your pulse is still a little elevated. I need you to try to relax, Misty. You’re hyperventilating. That’s why it’s so difficult to get your breath.”
“I don’t know what Jake’s doing here,” I say, voice trembling. “Or why he pretended he was dead all that time. But I know one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“He looked straight through me,” I whisper. “Like I was no one. Like I didn’t even exist.”
Darby studies me for a moment. “What do you want from him?”
I blink at her.
“What would you want Jake to say to you? If he knew?”
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.
Because I don’t know.
Do I want an apology? A hug? Some big-brotherly vow to make up for the years I lost?
Or do I want to scream in his face for having the life I was denied?
Then again…his life couldn’t have been all that great either, if he let his friends believe he was dead.
I’m back at square one.
Where I always am.
I don’t fucking know what I want.
Before I can put anything into words, someone knocks on the bedroom door.
“Is it okay for someone to come in?” Darby asks.
I nod.
“Come in,” Darby says.
The door opens.
I expect it to be Alex or Sebastian.
Maybe June. She’s the only one of the women I knew from before this event.
Or Evangeline.
But it’s not any of them.