Statistical Error

Chapter 3

Two weeks after the accident, I was finally allowed to go home. My mother hadn't talked to me since I'd asked her if my father hurt her, and my father only glared at me whenever he stopped by. I knew my mother had told him what I said.

My legs were out of their casts, the doctor had said it was mostly a precautionary measure and that I should be fine to walk. One of my arms remained in a cast and I knew I would get frustrated quickly by having one arm impaired.

I was packing the few items I'd come with when Ellie burst through the door, her cheeks flushed from the first cold spell of the fall. She had a huge smile on her face and I was struck by how pretty my little sister was. She hadn't inherited our mother's wavy brown hair like I had, her's was strawberry blonde and pin-straight like our father's. Her eyes were bright green and I was never really sure how that happened considering my mother's eyes were grey and my father's were brown. Despite only being a year younger than me, she still had the aura of a child; carefree and happy.

Over the past two weeks, I had forgiven my sister for being distant and she had made more of an effort to care.

"Lain, did you hear me?"

I winced, not quite used to the nickname she had adopted for me.

"Sorry, I was thinking," I replied quietly.

"Mom and dad don't want you to live alone so they were going to hire a nurse but I told them that was ridiculous for just having a broken arm but they still didn't want you to be alone so I volunteered to live with you until your arm heals," she finished, taking a huge breath.

Ellie always rambled when she got excited and never came up to breathe until she had finished saying what she had to say.

I looked at her big smile and rosy cheeks and I knew I couldn't disappoint her.

"Thanks, El."

Her eyebrows furrowed.

"Why does that sound so familiar?" She questioned.

Stupid mistake.

"I used to call you it when we were little," I explained.

"When we were little? Were we close?" She wondered.

I sighed. I really didn't want to get into this, not now.

"It doesn't matter. What matters is that we're going to be living together and we can start over, become the sisters we should have been all along."

I groaned internally at my speech. Honestly, I really didn't want Ellie to move in with me. I was just fine by myself, I always had been, but I had a feeling Ellie needed to get away from our parents for a little while, which I understood.

My sister picked up my bag and hoisted it onto her shoulder. I started to protest but she cut me off.

"Alaina, you have to ride in a wheelchair until you're out of the hospital, I can carry your bags."

"I have to what?" I demanded.

"Oh, you didn't know? Uh, yeah, protocol I guess," she explained awkwardly. "It's waiting for you in the hall. Sorry."

I walked past her into the hall and there it was; the wheelchair that would get me out. The nurse standing behind it smiled at me apologetically.

"Protocol."

"Yeah, so I've heard."

I swallowed my pride and lowered myself into the wheelchair. Ellie appeared in front of me, seeming genuinely excited. I had never thought she wanted to be around me, I was always the one envious of her. My parents both loved her excessively, they doted on her every moment they could. I had ignored that envy as much as I could, but I had to admit, seeing her want to be around me now was a bit satisfying.

The way out of the hospital was filled with small talk between Ellie and the nurse, while I sat quietly, thinking about everything I'd realized in the past two weeks: someone had fallen in love with me, my sister actually wanted to be around me and my father was abusive to my mother. Two of those things were good, surprising, but good. The other was also surprising, but not good at all. I had no idea what to do about it. My mother was a grown woman who could make her own decisions. If she decided to stay with an abusive husband, it was her right. What I was unsure of was whether or not to tell Ellie. She deserved to know, but my parents would be furious and I didn't want her life to be flipped upside down.

When the elevator doors opened to the lobby, the first thing I noticed was a dark haired boy holding a bunch of brightly coloured balloons. It was almost funny; a tall, skinny man holding enough balloons that it looked as if he might float away. He was talking to the receptionist, looking a bit flustered. As we got closer, I could hear bits and pieces of their conversation.

"What do you mean she... But she's here I... She couldn't have left alread..."

I strained to hear more. The receptionist looked apologetic, but I could tell she was getting annoyed.

"Sir, she's already left, I'm sorry."

I could see the man's body sag, he'd given up.

"Thanks anyway," he mumbled.

He turned to leave when his eyes fell on me. I could see a spark in them, which was odd. I hadn't showered for three days and I was dressed in ratty old sweatpants that made me look even bulkier than usual. Men didn't look at me that way even when I was trying to look good.

He ended up not liking what he saw because the spark in his eyes dulled, the smile fell from his face and he ducked his head, quickly making his way to the door. He stopped when he saw a little girl and bent down in front of her. He must have introduced himself because he stuck his hand out and the little girl shook it hesitantly, not quite knowing who this man was or how a handshake worked. I could see his mouth moving but I couldn't hear what he was saying. After a moment, he handed the girl the balloons he'd been holding. She looked delighted and I could hear her little squeal of happiness from across the room.

The man stood up and smiled at the little girl's mother, who looked ready to jump his bones.

His eyes flit back to me for a split second before he walked out the door.