Unmasked, The Masquerade Trilogy, Bk 3

Chapter 4

Teddy

                                                       ANOTHER AMBULANCE APPROACHED; their blaring sirens prudently silenced as they rolled up the curved driveway before parking outside the emergency department. Another car loaded with passengers turned off the bustling road shortly after. They were undoubtedly coming to visit a convalescing friend or family member.

I blew out a disgruntled sigh and dropped my forehead against the cool glass of my second-floor window. Visitors, for me, were merely a dream at this stage. Deep down, I imagined the elegantly dressed and dark-haired man carrying a sizeable bouquet of mixed pink blooms, confidently striding across the one-way service road and up onto the footpath to be Ari coming to visit me. Again, it wasn't a possibility. As it stood, we hadn't had physical contact for months, and since then, summer had passed, and autumn, my favourite time of year, was reaching its end. Deciduous trees were transitioning from brilliant reds to bright yellows, readying themselves for another round of Melbourne's depressingly cold winters. By the time the doctors came around and decided to release me, their naked limbs would have sprouted new leaves. I believed I was ready to go home; they just refused to listen.

Home. Which home, however? I highly doubted our new home was even remotely close to being finished, and Ari's, I remained hesitant for obvious reasons. So, the house of horrors, it seemed, was the only logical choice. I shuddered at the mere thought. A hotel might have to suffice until I decided in which direction I was headed. I'd work it out, always had.

The door to my private room creaked open, and Callie, one of my regular nurses, cheerfully called out, "Teddy, honey, it's time for your physio. Then you have your scheduled appointment with Doctor Montgomery afterwards."

"Okay." I spun around and ambled into the wheelchair, gingerly lifting my legs for Callie to push the footrests back down for my feet.

"Let's go."

I dreaded the physical pain that came with the physio exercises. Everything hurt, my body, inside and out. With the amount of pain inflicted upon me, Emmett's wrath had undoubtedly done a number to the point that nothing alleviated the horrid memory of it all. Emmett's twisted face frequently haunted my dreams. Mostly when I closed my eyes, leaving me petrified of my own shadow. Perhaps I was fooling myself and wasn't entirely ready to go. A sure sign was my flinching reaction and ear-piercing scream as a sharp bang unexpectedly resonated through the building's sterile halls.

Callie immediately drew to a halt and rushed around to the front of the wheelchair. Crouched in front of me, eyes the colour of the sea, studied my terrified face as she spoke in a calm, empathetic manner. "Hey, it's okay. You've nothing to be afraid of here, I promise. It was just a nail gun going off where tradies are extending the new wing, see?"

As I shakily wiped my eyes and cheeks with the back of my hand, I glanced in the direction of Callie's pointed finger and read the construction signs hanging about the hallways for everyone's safety. Reassured I was indeed safe, I mumbled, "I'm fine now."

"You sure?" she discreetly confirmed, waiting until I nodded before straightening. "Okay, let's go then."

Having diagnosed me with post-traumatic stress disorder, Doctor Montgomery warned me about certain noises or smells triggering memories; I had to reconcile the difference and learn that neither was an actual impending threat, again an inclusive part of my therapy. I wouldn't say I liked it; in fact, I despised this supposed 'treatment'. Being forced to relive every tiny detail of my life, including Scarlett's tortured screams as she pleaded with Emmett for her life, wasn't the highlight of my day. Nor were recounting Emmett's voice and menacing words as he aimed the gun at my terrified sister.