Battle Wounds

one.

Shortly after, Mrs. Cooper called the police. Of course, the Coopers blamed Harper for everything. They said she was deviant, dangerous, and unpredictable. That she had struck first while they had done nothing wrong. The cops didn't question their statement and pulled her out of the house. They didn't even take her to the hospital until Shane arrived, angry that Harper received no aid for her injuries.

The last twenty-four hours had been a nightmare but, sadly, it wasn't even the worst of what Harper went through.

"Sorry to interrupt," a woman's cheerful voice said, pulling Harper out of her more morbid thoughts.

She was thankful for the interruption of a trip down nightmare lane.

"Are you excited to be released today?" The doctor questioned, making her way into the room.

Harper nodded though nothing was exciting about it. At least here, she was safe, even if it had been for one night. Again, where she went from here continued to linger at the back of her mind.

The doctor stepped closer to her to examine the stitches on her forehead. Satisfied with how they were holding up, she stepped back. "You'll have to come back in about a week to get the stitches removed, but you're healing well," she said, her words directed at both Harper and Shane.

The doctor made a note on her tablet and then glanced toward Shane. "Can I speak with you? Alone?"

Shane nodded once, then handed Harper some money. "Why don't you grab us coffee while we talk?" It was more of a suggestion than a question.

Harper looked from one to the other, her suspicions rising.

"Harper," Shane said, motioning for her to leave.

With a sigh, she grabbed the money and then made her way out of the room. She glanced back briefly, mildly curious about the conversation, but their hushed voices made it impossible to hear anything. No doubt it was about her.

It didn't take long for Harper to find the coffee machine. She stared at the few options it offered before pressing one of the buttons. The machine whirred to life, humming happily as it dripped its contents into the styrofoam cup underneath. The steam rose as the cup filled with the dark liquid, its scent wrapping around her. For hospital coffee, it didn't smell too terrible. She watched, hypnotized, as the long stream turned into individual drops.

Her mind was back in the hospital room where Shane and the doctor spoke. It was irritating that they didn't include her in a conversation about her. She had a right to know but then again, maybe not.

With a sigh, she placed the lid on the cup and brought it to her lips, eager to taste the caffeine.

"You're not really going to drink that, are you?"

She turned towards the voice where a boy her age stood off to the side. He watched her curiously though a kind smile danced on his face. "That was kind of the plan. That's why, you know, I'm getting coffee."

"But it's hospital coffee. From a machine," he stated.

Harper looked curiously at the drink in her hand, the heat from the cup warming her hand. "Coffee's coffee." She rolled her eyes and brought the cup to her lips, ignoring his horrified look. She took a tentative sip of the steaming liquid, the caffeine hitting her instantly. But soon, that taste of caffeine turned to a burnt, watery aftertaste. She swallowed it with a grimace. "Okay, that's really gross."

"I tried to warn you," he said with a laugh.

Harper frowned at the coffee machine as if it had betrayed her, then poured the remainder of the so-called coffee into the drain. She discarded the cup, willing the terrible aftertaste to dissipate.